Fire and Water
by MorwennaTheWicked
Summary: NWN2 & MotB. You know the story. Dee is a ranger sent by her foster father on a quick errand to Neverwinter. She learns the difference between a bad man and a good man then meets someone who isn't a man at all as she tries to save her life and her soul.
1. The New Arrival

The first thing she noticed was the stench. It was very strong, a mix of rotting fish, food, and excrement, and it carried all the way across the bay below deck into the cabin. And they said the swamp smelled bad. The sewers must let out nearby, traveling underground from up the hill where the rich people lived. Dee made a mental note not to eat the local fish unless she knew it had been caught far offshore, despite the glowing review of the local seafood in the Neverwinter section of Captain Flynn's battered copy of _Volo's Guide to the North _that she had read to pass time on the days of the sea voyage. She mused that this Volo character sure never mentioned the lovely dockside aroma. The captain had warned her that the guide was written before the war with Luskan, and some of the places, apart from the Moonstone Mask, no longer existed. Still, she looked forward to seeing the famous bridges and Castle Never, and she thought it would be grand if she might catch a glimpse of Lord Nasher himself before she left.

She finished brushing then braiding her long flaxen hair, checked the silver pendant of Mielikki around her neck, then looked around the cabin and made sure she had everything in her pack. She chuckled as she checked the decoy pouch she kept in her pack for Neeshka, then the second decoy pouch, then the real pouch of gems she had collected on her travels.

Just as she tucked it away again, Neeshka popped her head in the cabin. "Dee, the captain says we'll dock soon, but you can stay the night on the ship if you want. He thinks it might be safer."

Dee snorted. "How bad can it be compared to the last few tendays?" She reached into her pack and pulled out a long bundle wrapped in sailcloth. "Here, this is for you. It's a gift for all your help. I'm told that there are mages here in Neverwinter who could use gems to add all manner of enchantments to weapons and armor, so I was thinkin' we could use some of those we found."

Neeshka gasped and snatched the bundle away, quickly unwrapping it. "A gift? For me? Really? I saw this in your pack, but I thought you made it to sell!" She threw her arms around Dee and hugged her tightly, then examined the blade. She frowned and looked sideways at Dee. "So...what do you want for it?"

Dee shrugged. "Nothin'. 'Tis a gift. I made it at Fort Locke while you were umm off exploring."

Neeshka hugged her again. "Nothing? Really? I've...never gotten a gift with no strings attached." She examined the balance. "It's beautiful! You do good work!"

Dee couldn't bring herself to tell the tiefling it was probably a farewell gift. Dee had only had to watch Neeshka display a few of her special skills-disarm a couple of traps and open a few locks-before she determined that these were very useful skills to know. She had been more resistant to learning to pick pockets though. In turn, Dee had taught her the two weapon fighting style she learned from her foster father. They had struck up a casual friendship on the journey to Neverwinter, though this meant accepting that the tiefling regularly rooted through her things.

Neeshka slid the rapier back into its scabbard and grinned. "Dee, you sure you don't want to partner up with me? You think fast, you're quiet despite your height, and you're wicked with your swords. The two of us could be the best thieves in Neverwinter!"

Dee chuckled and replied, "Dierdre Farlong, master thief." She shook her head. "Thanks anyway, Neesh, but it sounds like too much excitement for me."

Dee, like many people, had been at first wary of Neeshka because she was a tiefling, and she wasn't sure she wanted to let her travel with them. But it didn't seem right to abandon her to her fate. Dee sighed. She was really going to miss Neeshka once her business here was finished.

"What's wrong, Dee? Dierdre." Neeshka wrinkled her nose. "That's just not you, you know."

"Aye, my friend Aime was the one who started callin' me Dee. Short and sweet. She said neither of which described me, so it was perfect." They both laughed and sat down on the bunk.

"Khelgar is already pacing the deck. He can't wait to get off the ship."

Dee nodded and replied, "I'm going to miss Khelgar. I doubt we'll be seein' much of him once he gets to the temple of Tyr and starts his training as a monk, assuming they accept him as a student, of course."

Neeshka raised an eyebrow. " You have your doubts about that too?"

Dee shrugged. "Not about his ability to train. I just have doubts about whether the dwarf has the patience for it. I'm thinkin' though if they don't accept him, maybe he would be willing to travel with me and Elanee and help her find the local druids, then find out what's wrong with the Mere."

Neeshka leaned in close and whispered, "You just don't want to be alone with the tree-hugger. You don't trust her."

Dee frowned and swatted her away. "Wouldn't be goin' with her if I didn't trust her." As much as she was loathe to admit it, Neeshka was right though: the druid, the one she should have trusted the most, was the one she trusted the least. She had a gut feeling that the druid wasn't being forthright with her. "I just want to get her to the Neverwinter Circle, then I'll be back. I might even look for work around here."

Neeshka snorted. "Work-now there's a dirty word. Forget it, join up with me! We'll have plenty of coin in no time, and you can go back to your swamp in style."

Dee shook her head vehemently. "I'm a ranger and the daughter of a ranger and a decent tracker and scout, at least at home. I have options."

Neeshka gave her a skeptical look. "You're a ranger because your father is a ranger. Ever think there were more options?"

Dee replied tersely, "Yeah, I have lots of options. I'm as tall as a man and as strong as most men too."

"Doing what then?"

Dee nodded at the rapier. "I think I already make a decent enough blade. I really love takin' a piece of raw metal and shaping it, and in time, I think I might even become a fair swordsmith." But in her heart she wasn't sure if her skills were of Neverwinter caliber. According to Volo, it was a city famous for its artisans.

Dee fastened the straps on her studded leather jerkin Khelghar had made her, and marveled again at how perfectly it fit. "Khelgar could always get work as an armorer. This fits me like a second skin."

"No, your breeches fit like a second skin," Neeshka replied with a grin.

Dee stuck her tongue out at her. "I also don't doubt that I could also find work as a merchant's guard and see the whole Sword Coast. Maybe even go south to Calimshan! Wouldn't that be grand! I've got some coin comin'. Don't forget Marshall Cormick promised us a reward for helping his friend Galen."

Neeshka giggled. "Yeah. Like I would ever forget a reward. And you really have to stop turning them down, you know. It's a filthy habit!"

Dee stuck out her tongue again and Neeshka grabbed at it and caught it. "Ow!" Dee pulled herself free then grabbed Neeshka around the waist and tickled her. Neeshka squealed and twisted away.

Dee chuckled and leaned back on the bunk. "Maybe he could help me work or find Galen and sign on as one of his guards. There are just so many possibilities! Just as soon as I find this uncle Duncan of mine, find a mage he trusts, or as my father put it, that we _both_ trust (it unnerved her, this lack of trust in his own brother), and find out what in the Hells this shard is, and more important, how I could get rid of it, I can get my life back!"

Neeshka shrugged. "Why make it so complicated? Just throw it overboard. Who's going to know? Those things will definitely stop chasing you that way."

Dee replied mockingly, "Just throw it overboard. Yeah, like I never thought of that." She sighed. "I wish it were that easy. I suggested just throwing it away to my father that night in West Harbor before he sent me here, but he didn't think that would stop the attacks. I also have an obligation to help Elanee, but..." She shrugged again. "The way those bladelings seem to show up where ever I stop for more than a day. The more I think about it, the more I'm thinkin' I need to convince her that this was way too big of a problem for the two of us, or hells, even all of us, to take on. I'm a ranger, true, but I'm also just a farm girl who's never been more than ten miles from West Harbor until now, and I don't think Elanee had ever been far from the swamp. It's hard to tell with Elves, but I don't think she's all that old either."

Neeshka leaned back on the bunk beside her. "What are you going to do about it then?"

"See if I can make contact with the Harpers."

Neeshka snorted. "Get those do-gooders involved?"

Dee nodded. "Aye, get them involved. I've got this feelin' in my gut that this is big. And this is just the kind of thing the stories say that Harpers do."

Neeshka pondered this. "Alright, but how are you going to make contact? Aren't they kind of a secret society? Not like you're going to find a Harper Hall here. Ain't like you can stop people on the street and ask, is it."

"Noooo," Dee replied with a hint of annoyance. "But I'm thinkin' that maybe this Ophala woman the book says owns the _Moonstone Mask_, if she's still there, might help. Assuming an important woman like her'll even talk to me, that is." She opened the book to the entry and held it for Neeshka to read. "Maybe Cormick could introduce me, or I could ask around the bards too. Hells, even some of your people might know. Cormick might also be able to help me out."

"You kinda like him, don't you," Neeshka asked with a grin.

Dee rolled her eyes. "No, it's not that."

Neeshka giggled. "It's not!" "Not even a little? He was kinda handsome if you like those older, lawful, built like an ox types."

Dee shook her head. "I suppose I'm a little bit in awe of him. He's a legend in West Harbor. Everyone still talks about how he won at the Harvest Fair, and that was eight years ago. I just wanted to share a pint or two with him and talk, nothin' more. I kinda had someone back there anyway."

"Kinda?" Neeshka asked inquisitively.

Dee looked away. "Aye, kinda. Truth be told, I've been thinking of leaving West Harbor for a few seasons now. You probably would understand. Don't get me wrong, I had really good friends there, but sometimes I almost prayed for something to happen to end the monotony. I have no desire to be a farmer."

Neeshka shuddered slightly at the thought of being trapped, even for a little while, in a small village.

Dee continued, "So many of the girls I grew up with are already married, and most of the rest, falling in love and having kids is all they ever talk about."

Neeshka snorted. "Love, or lust."

Dee chuckled. "Aye, I think that's more often the case."

"And you?"

Dee replied, "I don't think I even know what love is, but after seeing what a ruin love made of my foster father after he lost his wife, I want no part of it. And most of the time, 'tis nothin' more than a fluttering in the nethers anyway."

Neeshka giggled. "Yup, that's about it. But you said kinda? Come clean." Neeshka stretched around to look her in the eyes.

Dee hesitated then answered, "There was one boy, Wyl Mossfield. I had a few tussles with him in the barn, but that was about all." Neeshka gave her a skeptical look. Dee shook her head. "I always stopped him before he had a chance to do much more than fumble around under my shirt. Not because I thought there was somethin' wrong with it, but I'm sure not ready to settle down, and I sure don't want any kids."

Neeshka giggled. "So you're telling me you've never...never ever? Nothing? Never even kissed the one-eyed monster? Never..." Dee grabbed Neeshka's tail to stop her. "Ow! Hey! That's sensitive!" Neeshka rubbed her tail and pouted.

Dee shrugged. "Sorry. Aye, never. Maybe it's because I've seen a few too many girls married to a boy they were tired of before the baby even arrived. I mean, I don't even know who my father was. I know I didn't want to end up like that."

Neeshka answered, "But there are potions an alchemist can make up, you know, and women who know how to help you out of that kind of predicament, if you ask around."

Dee shook her head. "Maybe in the city, but not in West Harbor. You've never lived in a small village. We had one mage, which was rare enough, and if you even asked him for such a thing, I don't doubt he'd have gone right to your parents. So I took care of myself. I was stronger than Wyl, so I could fight him off when he got too hot, but the one time I was about ready to give in, he umm...finished." She grinned sheepishly as Neeshka laughed and slapped her knee.

Dee chuckled too. "Besides, he hadn't been too happy that my friends and I planned to enter the Harvest Brawl against him and his brothers, told me it wasn't gonna look good if his woman beat him, and then he wouldn't even talk to me after we won. Wouldn't even pay up the 10 gold we wagered on the match. So we were finished." She sighed again and stretched. "This journey has given me a lot of time to think, and you know what I realized? I've thought a lot about my friends Bevil and Aime, and about my father, but..." She sighed again. "I've hardly thought of him these past tendays. And what's worse, I got to thinkin' the only attraction he had for me at all was that my foster father didn't care much for him. Gods! Think of bein' bound with someone for life because your father didn't like him."

Neeshka nodded sympathetically. "Was your foster father that bad?" Dee looked away again. "Did he beat you? Or worse?"

Dee shook her head. "No, nuthin' like that. He was good enough, treated me well, and I had wanted for little growing up. But I sometimes felt like he resented being saddled with me." She shrugged as Neeshka patted her shoulder. "I'm grateful he took me in when he could've passed me off to a temple, but there's little things..."

"Like what?" Neeshka asked.

"Like the way he always calls me his foster daughter. It really grates on me, like he's rubbing it in. What I wouldn't have given for just a hug that didn't seem forced. I've lived with him all my life, but I don't feel like I know him at all..." She sighed bitterly then paused for a moment before she continued, glad for a sympathetic ear. "During fight practice one evening, Georg, leader of our militia, suggested that I go along as a guard when the village sent its grain to market after the harvest. I had been working up the nerve to tell my father."

"Were you afraid he wouldn't let you go?" Neeshka asked.

Dee turned back to look at her. "Truth be told, I was more than a little afraid he wouldn't care. But then came the attack the night of the Harvest Fair, and he sent me into the swamp to retrieve the shard, and then sent me here the next day before the sun was fully up. I hardly had time to get ready! I was numb-I just threw things into my father's old pack. Hells, I was wearin' my nightshirt until I got to the inn past the swamp, and I'm still wearin' my work boots. That's the first thing I need to replace when we get in."

And there was more she kept to herself. It still amazed her that her father had managed to contact Captain Flynn during the time she was in the ruins. How had it been possible? What else hadn't Daeghun told her? She hated the feeling gnawing at her gut that she was no longer in control of her fate. Hells with that! "Let's get out of here, Neesh. Smells like we're about to dock."

She stepped through the door to the main deck, froze in her tracks as she looked around, and gasped in astonishment as she looked across the water at the lights of the city. It was so big! She hadn't even imagined how big a city of 17,000 people would be, or how beautiful it would be at night. She ran to the side of the ship for a better look, straining on her toes and leaning over the side. Up on the hill she could even make out the castle! She shouted to Neeshka and pointed. "Look! Is that Castle Never? And over there, is the Sleeping Dragon bridge? And that one must be the Dolphin Bridge!"

Neeshka laughed loudly. "Well, no one's going to know you're not some yokel just arrived in the big city. I better stick with you. You'll be an easy mark."

Dee only half heard her. That was it! She was definitely going to stay around for a while, just as soon as she finished helping Elanee. She frowned then as she remembered her bear, Cillian, who came to her on the way to Fort Locke. It had been really hard being away from him during the voyage. Sometimes she summoned him at night and drifted off to sleep on the floor with her face pressed into his fur. She sighed. She was sure there was probably a law against bears loose in the city. For his sake, if she stayed, she had to live on the outskirts. She asked, "Hey Neesh, is there a law against bears in the city? Are they gonna make me try to put him on a leash?"

But Neeshka and Khelgar were squabbling as usual, and Elanee was holding a bundle of herbs under her nose to ward off the smell. Khelgar had been moaning and groaning the whole trip, and Elanee had been unnerved by the vast, deep expanse of the open sea, until after a few days of tolerating her complaints even Dee had snapped that there was nothing "unnatural," at all, it was just a different kind of nature.

For her part, it had taken Dee almost a day to get used to the motion of the ship, and she spent her time at the rail as much to watch the view as to be ready to empty her churning stomach. She loved the fresh sea air though, and had gotten her sea legs in no time. She had even thought of talking to Captain Flynn about signing on as crew on his return trip south, though she had seen that the life of a sailor was a rough and tumble one.

She'd been in two fights during the voyage, putting sailors who were looking for a "bedwarmer" in their place. Just last night she and Neeshka had been drinking and gambling with some of the crew when one of them accused the tiefling first of cheating, then of jinxing him. He grabbed Dee's arm and said he'd get paid back, one way or another. She reacted with a vicious uppercut that sent him flying; then his friend jumped on her back, Neeshka jumped on him, and the rest was a blur of fists and clubs until the captain and Khelgar broke it up and admonished them for not inviting him to the fight. Elanee had refused to heal them. Neeshka had rolled her eyes as Elanee stalked back to bed and muttered, "Yes, mother." Dee's knuckles were scabbed and swollen, she had a bruise on her jaw, and a swollen lip, and she just now realized that she hadn't even asked Neeshka if she _had_ cheated.

They debarked even though Flynn had strongly suggested it was safer if they stayed the night and left at first light, but she was determined to get this over with. And there was so much to see anyway! Neeshka especially couldn't wait to get off the ship and back in her city, and she paced impatiently as the ship docked and sprinted to the dock as soon as the gangplank was set. Dee stopped and asked directions to the Flagon at a city Watch outpost, as well as directions to the Temple of Tyr.

Neeshka ran back and grabbed her arm impatiently. "Let's go! I could've told you that!"

Dee replied, "Fine, but I wasn't sure if you would've known where the temple was. We can head over there in the morning and see if Cormick is in on the way. Oh, and I want to go shopping once we get the reward! I want to get new boots, and find something nice to bring back for my friend Bevil's mother, and something for Bevil too, and maybe something for my father."

Neeshka looked her over. "The armor is good, but we've got to get you some clothes that don't scream 'farm girl.'"

The Watch sergeant had said the Flagon was just up the street, so they made their way there first to meet the uncle she hadn't even heard of until a few tendays ago.

Khelgar and Neeshka had finally stopped bickering. Khelgar rubbed his belly and said, "Now for a few pints, a big bowl of stew, and a bed that isn't moving."

Neeshka giggled and asked, "You paying?"

Dee added, "I'm just looking forward to a real bath and a chance to wash my hair." She sniffed herself discretely. Yup, she smelled like she'd had a tenday with nothing but a sponge bath. Elanee stayed close to her, eyes darting around nervously and jumping at every sound, making Dee more nervous than she wanted to admit she was. "Hells, calm down, Elanee. Think of it as bein' inside a giant beehive!"

Dee feigned a swaggering confidence she really didn't feel to put her at ease. She stepped up to the door and pushed it open, pausing on the threshold to allow her eyes to get used to the light inside. She scanned the room and its denizens before stepping in. And there weren't many, probably due to the lateness of the hour. She whispered, "The place is dead."

Neehska thought, "What a dive!" She pushed her way past anyway, dive or not, and almost ran for the bar, followed by closely Kelghar.

Dee felt eyes on her, and turned her head until she spotted a man dressed in leathers sitting in the shadows against the wall, a bow leaning against the wall next to him, drinking a mug of ale and sizing her up like a wolf eying its prey. Not bad looking either, with eyes the color of honey, though she thought he could stand a shave. The way he kept his back to the wall and sat where he could watch who came and went told her he might be a ranger, and the slight movement under the table that she spotted-a wolf-confirmed that. She smiled at the wolf. "Well, if he can have a wolf, I can have my bear, and Elanee can have her badger," she thought.

She saw his eyes dart to her weapons, but she realized he was giving her legs a long look too, licking his lips. Well, let him look. She'd been told they were her best feature, not that she cared. Well, maybe a little. She met his eyes with a cool look and nodded to let him know she was aware of his scrutiny. Usually that was enough to intimidate or embarrass men into turning away, but this one was different. Instead, the raw desire he returned in his gaze made _her_ blush, and she gasped and was the one to look away. "Gods, he's lookin' at me like he's already seen me naked! I'm gonna have to find a way to put that one in his place." She felt a rising heat in her cheeks, and she quickly glanced back in time to see him chuckling. She gave him her haughtiest sneer and decided to remember why she was even there. "Better to keep an eye on that one in the mirror over the bar."

She turned and spotted a half elf near the bar watching her warily as he dried his hands on an ale-stained apron. He looked younger than she expected, but then again, he could be a hundred. She didn't see much resemblance to Daeghun, but as she got close she saw there was something familiar about his eyes, and his shaggy hair was the same color. That's where the similarity ended; he was as unkempt as Daeghun was neat. She gave the ranger another glance in the mirror to see if he was still watching her; he was. Dee didn't know whether she wanted to smack him one, or...or what? The tingle in her nethers told her what.

She quickly strode over to the safety of the half-elf and said, "I'm looking for Duncan Farlong. "

He stammered nervously for a minute, "Duncan? He's around somewhere. Why would you be lookin' for him, lass?," rambling nervously long enough to convince her that he was probably as shady as Daeghun had implied.

What exactly did he think she was? It was late, and she was tired, hungrier than she had realized, and she really wanted that bath and bed. She held up her hand to silence him. "Daeghun sent me."

He blinked as the name sunk after a moment in through his drunken haze. "Daeghun?" He looked her over and blinked again, peering at her closely. "Not little Dierdre?"

She shrugged and chuckled lightly. "Aye, I'm Dee, tho' not so little anymore. He's sent me on an errand he says you can help me with. And I'm hopin' you have rooms for me and my friends," nodding at the others at the bar, "and a bath? Is it too late for that?"

He smiled and took her hand and shook it vigorously then pulled her into a hug. She grunted and returned the hug and wondered how he could be related to Daeghun. "Little Dierdre. Should've known at once, ye have yer mother's eyes. Don't worry about the bath. There's always plenty of warm water because of the fire elementals under the river. Now tell me what this is all about. What kind of dangerous errand has my brother sent you on? Gods know he sent me on plenty before I gave it up."

She glanced at the mirror in her watching game with the ranger and was more disappointed than she wanted to admit that he was no longer watching her. In fact, he looked really mad about something. So even as she started telling her uncle everything that had happened, she was trying to think of a casual way to strike up a conversation with the ranger. "I know!," she thought, "I'll just go admire his wolf! That would work with me." Maybe they could share a mug of mead or two, and she would even let him show her the city, if he behaved.


	2. The Hunter Stalks His Prey

Bishop scowled as he took another swig of his ale. "Cyric's balls, it's boring tonight," he muttered. He sat in his usual spot, against the wall where he could see who came and went. He nearly prayed for some action, anything to liven up the night, which he didn't want to admit, but was as boring as the one before that, and the one before that. He was almost bored enough to go out and hunt up some trouble, which was easy enough to find here in the Docks District, though he sometimes went as far as the Merchants'. His skill with the bow made him an excellent sniper, and a few times he had sought out a hiding place on a rooftop or behind a stack of empty barrels and crates where he could watch for some prey, usually muggers. He especially enjoyed the look of surprise on their faces when his arrows cut them down.

The first time he had done it had been accidental-he rounded a corner in an alley looking for a certain wench who worked there and surprised two thieves looting the corpse of a merchant. Luckily his bow was strung. They turned to charge him, and he nocked two arrows, firing instinctively and killed the first with two quick shots fired at point blank range. He drew his hunting knife and slit the throat of the other thief as he rushed him. His heart was pounding like it was going to burst out of his chest, but it was exhilarating; he hadn't felt that alive in months.

Last time he had gone "hunting" he got sight of a pair of burglars sliding down a rope out of an alley window. He had quickly finished them both, one with a shot in the temple, and the other with a shot through the eye; they had been killed before they even reached the ground, before they even knew what hit them. He was always careful to rob the corpses of their loot and remove his arrows so there was nothing to pin the murders on him. But the coin he got from that night was nearly gone, so it was time to go find some more.

He couldn't hunt too often though without catching the attention of the more organized gangs, and he didn't need a bounty on his head. There was also the Watch to consider, though many of them were corrupt or wisely decided that they didn't make enough to risk their lives. He considered his options as he finished his ale. Maybe he could find someone who needed a scout; there were plenty of so-called nobles who liked to hunt and needed guides, or fools looking for _adventure—_he sneered at the thought—and riches. It was ready coin, though that was usually more trouble than it was worth as it meant putting up with fools who couldn't spot game or be quiet if their lives depended on it.

"I've been in this gods-cursed city too long anyway," he muttered to himself. He needed to get back out in the wild, where life wasn't so complicated. Trouble was, the wild wasn't what it used to be either. There was something strange going on, something...unsettling out there. Something that left him feeling naked, fearful, and weak.

He scowled and pondered whether he should squander some of his remaining coin on a wench, or just get drunk, then it occurred to him that with care, he could do both. Duncan's cheapest swill provided a good drunk, though it usually came with a powerful hangover the next morning. And, really, he need not pay for entertainment at a festhall when all he needed was the use of a wench's mouth. There were enough tired, worn-out whores near the docks, and as a wise man once said, "All cats are gray in the dark." He grinned and stretched, and thought about where to take care of the latter before returning to take care of the former. Then the door opened, and she walked in.

"Well now. This night just got a whole lot more interesting." Bishop grinned as the tavern door opened and he surveyed the tall blond wench standing hesitantly on the threshold holding the door open, appraising the tavern. Here was some entertainment at last, and he sat back down and motioned to Sal for a refill. She was tall—of an enviable height even for a man—had to be tall as he was. In his opinion almost taller than a woman had any right to be, but such a transgression against nature was forgivable when it came with long legs like hers. She knew it too, judging by the tight deerskin breeches she wore that enhanced every curve. He was reminded of a deer, but no, she was too big and strong for that. An elk then. Still no match for a determined wolf though. He grinned and licked his lips as thought of those long legs wrapped around him.

The wench wasn't beautiful, but pretty enough, and he supposed might be more so if she used some paint. Not that beauty mattered much at all to him. For a fleeting moment, a trick of the light streaming through her pale moonlit hair made it look like a halo surrounded her. He blinked and looked again. No, no angel. Just a normal wench. Blue eyes, but not a pale, icy blue. More like the the sky at midday. She looked to be from barbarian stock with her broad shoulders, strong jaw and high, thick cheekbones, and generous, swollen lips. Too swollen, in fact, and then he spotted the bruising. So she's a feisty wench. He felt a stirring at that and shifted uncomfortably in his seat. She turned in his direction as if she sensed his scrutiny. Their eyes met; she held his gaze defiantly followed by a curt nod, then after glancing down and smiling at Karnwyr, she turned away. Karnwyr sat up, sniffed the air, and panted, watching her. Bishop got a mental impression that said he smelled bear on her.

She stepped in and was followed by a pretty but too skinny wood elf, who stayed close on her heels, almost clinging. He figured it must be her first time in the city. Well it was a filthy, frightening place compared to the wilderness. Pushing her way in on the blonde's other side was—gods—was that a tiefling? Really cute though, and walking in with a swagger like she owned the place. She wasn't even attempting to hide what she was. Her tail swayed saucily and drew the eye—his anyway—to her tight little ass. He had heard that tieflings were cursed, but that ass might be worth the risk. He'd bed her—bet he'd have to watch his pouches with her though. Hells, he'd bed any of them, even the skinny elf.

The loud clomp of iron-shod boots snapped him out of his reverie and drew his attention to the door, and he saw that they were followed by a bald male dwarf, probably their muscle. A giantess, an elf, a tiefling, and a dwarf. Sounded like the beginning of a dirty joke. "Is the circus in town?" he muttered to the wolf.

He chuckled at his wit and quaffed his ale and watched as the tall blond glanced his way again to see if he was still watching her. He stared her down with a leer that let her know that yes, he was watching her still, and yes, he wanted to have her, right here on this table in front of everyone. She turned away quickly and strode towards Duncan, the others heading for the bar. He chuckled as he caught a blush spreading across her cheek and resisted the predatory urge to give chase now that he had spooked his prey.

He chuckled more to see Duncan swallow nervously, wiping his hands on his dirty apron, eyes darting around for a way to escape. But Bishop's strong self-preservation instinct warned him too that things could get ugly, and he watched closely in case he needed to get out fast, but he waited, hoping that they were going to gut Duncan. Or at least break his arm. They could be collecting 'protection' money, though he had to admit they didn't look the type. A drunk like Duncan probably owed a lot of people though, and several gangs lately had been brazenly shaking merchants and tavern owners down for protection. Hells, a pair of young thugs blocked his way down an dark alley a few nights back, demanding a 'toll' to cross their little piece of piss-soaked turf. He answered them with a sneer and a dangerous glare that let them know they didn't have long to live if they didn't move out of his way. And they did.

He casually strung his bow; if things did get ugly, he would pick off the dwarf and follow through with an arrow through the blonde's back, or better yet, there was a vulnerable place right below her ear and behind her jaw. He figured the tiefling and elf would run off rather than stay and fight. Hells, if he saved Duncan's miserable hide, then they'd be even. He liked that idea. He quickly sized up the threat. All except the dwarf wore leather armor; the blond and the elf's looked so new, and fit them so perfectly that they had the gold to pay for custom work. The tiefling's leathers had a dull sheen from being oiled to help her move quietly, and the three of them made hardly a sound as they moved lightly across the floor. But they certainly couldn't be very stealthy with that scale mail wearing dwarf in tow. Couldn't be assassins then. Could still be collectors or enforcers though.

He set his quiver on the table where he had easy access. He could get off at least half a dozen shots before they knew what hit them. He assessed their weapons. The blond wench was armed to the teeth with a long sword on her left hip, and a short sword on her right, what looked like a real Duskwood bow and quiver across her back, and a mace hanging from her belt. He guessed that despite the bow, the two swords said she preferred melee fighting. She didn't look old enough to have the skill to hit with both swords though. Weak. He noted a dagger in each boot. He was also sure she probably had some more daggers concealed about her. He'd smirked, thinking of how much fun it would be stripping her of them. She also didn't have enough sense to keep her long, thick braid tucked away to keep it from being grabbed and used against her. She could be slammed to the ground, or pulled into her enemy's grasp. He thought of grabbing that braid to force her to his will. She looked like a screamer. He'd like to find out.

He shook his head to clear it and got back to business. The dwarf, who was almost as wide as he was tall and solidly built, was armed with a couple of axes as tall as he was, and had a pair of hammers and throwing axes hanging from his belt-yeah, big surprise there. It would be a mistake to underestimate how far he could reach with his axes though, or how hard he could hit.

The tiefling also looked like she fought two-handed with a well-made rapier and a long dagger. She also had a crossbow and a quiver of bolts hanging from her belt. He would have plenty of time to take her out though before she even had it loaded. Bishop watched her tail sway and wondered, could it be wielded as a weapon too? Was it strong enough, or did she have enough control over it to choke someone? Use it like a lash? He didn't want to find out. He checked her hands to see if she had nails or claws. He hadn't seen many of her kind, but he had seen one with black claws.

Then there was the elf; she was the one who didn't fit in. She was armed with a long bow and a...sickle? A tree-hugger? Here? That made more sense at all but explained why she looked so nervous. He knew enough about druids to figure out that she had probably been sent here on some mission by her Circle, and she probably joined up with the others for protection. So her presence meant they weren't likely to be thugs then, or at least not her.

Bishop scowled in disappointment as it was looking less likely that the evening's entertainment included hurting Duncan. What were they about then? He stroked the stubble on his chin and realized he should have seen it right away-they looked more like adventurers. Killing or hurting Duncan was just wishful thinking, and he should have known better.

Hells, the blond look like she hadn't seen much more than 20 summers. And other than the armor and weapons, her gear wasn't all that great. Her pack was old and patched. He spotted the glint of silver the unicorn pendant at her throat and snorted derisively. A little girly ranger who follows the girly goddess Meilikki. Even more weak. Was that why was she their leader? He could see the tiefling latching on to anyone who would allow her to join up, as traveling alone would be dangerous outside of the cities. In some villages, the 'good' people would just as soon string her up as not just for what she was. They all probably met up on the road somewhere and traveled together for mutual protection.

He shrugged and took a deep quaff of his ale, then snorted and almost choked as he caught sight of the blonde's boots: flat soled, well-worn and stained from repeated exposure to mud, they the kind of work boots farmers wore. So there it was—she was some farm wench who just left whatever mud pit she called home, strapped on a couple of swords, and was off in search of _adventure_. He gave her credit for getting out, and at least she was smart enough to spend whatever coin she'd found on armor and weapons. He decided that they probably just arrived in the city. In fact, he noticed now that the dwarf was a bit unsteady on his feet as if he was already drunk or had been at sea and didn't have his land legs yet. Probably just looking for a room or work. This could work out to his advantage then.

He caught the wench eying him again in the mirror behind the bar, thinking she was being clever, and if it had been anyone but him, it would've been. He met her gaze and gave her his most charming grin then laughed as she looked away. Yeah, she was interested. He could almost taste her now. He could invite them to his table and turn on the charm. He could be very charming when it suited his purpose. He knew too that many women considered him handsome. They might need a scout. Maybe not with a ranger in their band already, but he knew the area and he was guessing she didn't. He planned to be sharing the wench's bed within a tenday, and maybe a lot sooner, maybe tonight if he was lucky.

She talked with Duncan for a few minutes. The elf stayed near and continued to glance around nervously before reluctantly joining the others. Duncan grinned and grabbed the wench's hand, then pulled her into a bear hug. He called her "Little Dierdre." Bishop snorted. Ale must be affecting Duncan's brain. There was nothing little about that wench.

He was actively trying to eavesdrop now, and he grinned as he heard her ask about getting a bath. Once when he was coming back from one of his "hunting trips" across the rooftops, he had climbed in through a high attic window and found a place in the rafters where there was a crack in the ceiling that afforded a fair view of the women's bath. He wouldn't be surprised if Duncan or Sal had put it there on purpose. All the better to watch his prey, and it didn't hurt to see the goods before he tried them and make sure she didn't have any extra equipment before he found out the hard way.

She and Duncan were talking for longer than it would take to arrange for room and board though. They appeared to be looking at something she had pulled out of a pouch she wore around her neck. He heard Duncan mention Sand, the wizard who ran the shop across the street. Sand was a bit of an old woman who had a perpetual pinched expression like he always smelled something bad, but his potions were very good and cheap as well. And right on cue, Sand walked in while Duncan was still talking about him, and from his expression, saying nothing good. Gods, this was like watching a play. He hoped to be around to see Sand turn Duncan into something disgusting some day.

Then the final curtain fell on the evening's entertainment, but it dropped on him. Duncan introduced her to Sand in that stupid loud voice of his as his niece. Her uncle? He sure couldn't see the family resemblance. All his dark carnal thoughts about the wench, her companions, or for that matter about any wench, died right then, and he almost spit out his ale in disgust. Duncan's niece? Life was unfair! He could almost hear mocking laughter all around him.

She laughed at something Duncan said, and it cut right through Bishop as if she was part of the chorus laughing at him. He was going to make her pay. He glared at her then turned away but still caught bits of their conversation. She had a brash, confident voice that carried around the room, making it nearly impossible to ignore her, the only thing that gave her any resemblance to Duncan at all. His lust melted away, leaving behind an acrid residue of hate. Turning away, forcing himself to ignore her, he lost all interest in going anywhere or doing anything but getting more drunk.

Then the wizard began muttering some kind of spell and got his attention again. Mages always made him nervous. He'd been too close to a fireball spell and a miscalculated lightning bolt a couple of times, so he was ready to dive under the table. Suddenly there was a flash, and the three of them flew back and hit the floor. Well, at least that was worth a laugh, except the blond stood and brushed herself off, laughing loudly too, which ruined the joke. Unfortunately, no one seemed to be hurt, so he turned away and raised his mug towards Sal for another refill. He had nearly finished that mug when the wench's conversation with Duncan and Sand finally ended, and Sand swished out.

She headed towards her companions but took the long way around, moving with a long, powerful stride, and slowed just enough to nod at him and toss him a flirting half smile as she passed. She smiled at Karnwyr and asked him, "Who's your friend? Sure has pretty eyes."

Bishop replied with a sneer, "If I wanted a wench, I'd pay for one."

She blinked and gasped as if she hadn't heard him right, looking stunned as if she had been struck, but recovered enough to answer him with a loud, disdainful laugh. "I'm guessin' you haven't ever had a woman you haven't paid for." She shook her head and continued past him, muttering "What crawled up his backside? "

He had to add one more dig before she was out of earshot. "Stick around, wench. A few more drinks and you might start looking good."

She called back over her shoulder, "Yeah? I don't believe there's enough drink in this tavern to make _you_ look good, and besides, I prefer men who have at least a passing acquaintance with soap and water."

Typical. Wenches always have to get in the last word. He resolved to ignore her from here on in.


	3. Girls Gone Wild in the Merchant Quarter

Girls gone Wild in the Merchant Quarter

Usual disclaimers: Most of the characters in this chapter belong to Bioware, Obsidian, Hasbro, and a whole lot of other people and not me, with the exception of a bear-lovin' ranger.

Dee stormed over to her friends and threw herself in a chair, muttering under her breath.

Neeshka looked over to where she had come from, at the auburn haired sullen man seated against the wall, and asked, "What's wrong? What did he say?"

"Hells if I know, Neesh!," Dee growled. "Crazy bastard over there!" She gestured with a thumb in Bishop's direction. "I see him givin' me the eye the whole time I'm talkin' to my uncle, and I thought, I should go over and smack him one for the way he's lookin' at me..."

Neeshka squealed and interrupted, "Ooh I saw, I thought of asking if he needed help putting his tongue back in his mouth."

Khelgar added, "Aye, I saw it too, and I was about to go teach him some manners, but this is yer uncle's place, so I didn't want to start a fight our first eve here."

Dee patted his shoulder. "Aye, and I thank you for that, Khel. Anyway, but then I was thinkin' he looks to be another ranger, so I might as well go chat him up and find out the lay of the land. Who knows, he might be able to help us out." She grabbed a mug and quaffed deeply then nearly choked. "Harvest mead?" She took another drink, more slowly this time, enjoying the way it warmed her all the way down. "Anyway, I'm decidin' not to be too forward, so I decided to ask him what his wolf is called, you know, casual conversation, and he gives me this evil look like I just spit in his face and calls me a whore!"

Khelgar jumped up and glared at the ranger. "He didn't!"

Dee shook her head and replied, "His exact words were 'If I wanted a wench, I'd pay for one.'

"Why I'll teach that whelp some manners, lass!," he bellowed, cracking his knuckles for emphasis.

Dee reached over again put a hand on his shoulder. "Stay, friend. I can handle a scoundrel like him without destroyin' my uncle's tavern."

Elanee answered thoughtfully, "It's not quite the same thing as calling you...that, but it was still very, very rude. And it's strange because clearly from the way you kept looking at each other there was some mutual attraction, so his hostility is puzzling. What did you do?"

Dee snorted, ignoring Elanee's accurate observation. "Told him he'd never been with a woman he hadn't had to pay to put up with him."

Neeshka giggled and pushed a bowl of stew over to Dee. "Good one! So the barkeep says we can all stay."

Dee took a big bite and chewed and swallowed quickly and nodded at Neeshka. "Aye, my uncle said we're welcome as long as we're here. I don't feel right takin' his hospitality tho' because we may be here a while." She gave Elanee apologetic smile. "Sorry, but there's nothin' I can do. I have to speak to some sage in the Blacklake district, but it's closed off because of a murder of a Lord or somethin."

Neeshka gasped. "They closed off the whole district? Must've someone big."

Dee nodded as she finished chewing another bite of stew. "Aye, that mage I was talkin' to, goes by Sand..."

"Sand?" Neeshka interrupted ,"What kind of name is that?"

Elanee rolled her eyes and answered, "No doubt it's a corruption of his Elven name."

Dee swallowed another mouthful of food and continued. "Anyway, Sand said even folks who live there can't go home! Uncle says if we want to get in there, we should consider joinin' the Watch or..." she leaned closer to Neeshka. "He said there's this thug named Caleb who might be able to get us in the back way."

Neeshka's eyes widened. "Caleb? 'Thug' is the right word. He's really not someone you want to mess around with unless you have to. I can try some of my contacts, it would be a lot safer, I think."

Dee sighed and finished her stew. "You think? You're not sure? I suppose it wouldn't hurt to talk to him, and we have to see Cormick at the Watch office to get that reward anyway. Maybe he can help us out too."

Neeshka wrinkled her nose and replied "I hate the thought of marching into the Watch, even if we are getting a reward. I'm always afraid they won't let me out."

Dee grimaced at her bowl now that she had satisfied her initial hunger and was actually tasting what she was eating. "Maybe I can help out with the cookin' while I'm here." She finished her mead, sopped the last bits of stew with a piece of bread, and considered getting another mead.

Elanee nodded as she picked at her own bowl. I'd be willing to help too, as long as we have to be here."

Khelgar added, "I suppose I could help out with the heavy liftin' like kegs and such, and maybe yer uncle is needin' a bouncer too, at least until I start training at the Temple."

Dee smiled. "That's good of both of you." She glanced at Neeshka, who had a look of utter disgust at the thought of work. "Anyway, we should get to bed so we can get an early start. I'm takin' a bath first though. Uncle says they have hot runnin' water, even at this hour!"

Neeshka shrugged and answered, "Yeah, it's because some mage put fire elementals in part of the city water supply. A bath sounds good!"

Elanee sighed happily, "Yes, after all that time on the ship, a bath would be delightful."

Khelgar chuckled. "I might as well join you."

The women turned to him in unison, mouths open. "Well not join you," he said, blushing profusely, "but in the men's bath. Be good to get that ship stink out of my beard."

Neeshka giggled. "You'll probably wash bits of your last six months' meals out of your beard. And then what will the bugs eat?"

Dee sighed and grabbed the used bowls and carried them to the kitchen as the bickering began again. She glanced at the scoundrel, who glowered back then stood and stalked out of the tavern with his wolf.

To Dee taking a hot bath at this hour without having to heat and haul gallons of water was a thing of wonder. Neeshka quickly stripped, drew a bucket of water and poured it over herself and reached over to the shelf for the soap. Dee shrugged at Elanee and pulled off her clothes.

Elanee sniffed the soap and wrinkled her nose. "I suggest we get some better soap while we're shopping tomorrow."

Dee chuckled as she doused herself with water and lathered her hair. Neeshka crept up behind her and dumped a bucket of cold water over her. Dee shrieked, jumped up, and chased the squealing tiefling with her own bucket. Elanee sighed and tried to avoid the water fight, muttering "Enough, children." As the small tubs seemed to be in use judging from the sounds coming from the privacy curtains separating them, they jumped in the large communal tub for a long soak.

Dee sighed happily, leaned back, and said "I could get used to this."

And so the next morning, Dee awoke and greeted the Morninglord's first rosy light as it began to stretch across the sky, slipped out of bed, looked around somewhat guiltily, and sneaked to the bath again. She could just imagine her father's disapproving frown, but right now, as she slipped under the water up to her chin, she really didn't care. "I really could get used to this," she murmurred. She stayed in as long as she thought was decent and snuck back to her room to dress, glad that she hadn't run into any of her companions. She decided against wearing her studded leathers. Too much work to get out of them if she wanted to try something on. Besides, she was going to have her friends with her, not to mention an angry badger and a large brown bear. She reached over and scratched his head. "I should send you back, but I want to keep you with me for a little while longer. l'll get you some fresh fish for breakfast." Cillian gave her a bearish grin and followed her to the door.

So after a quick trip to the dock to let Cillian devour a couple of fish, she stopped in at Sand's shop. He pursed his lips after he opened the door and looked at them coolly and said, "Well...Duncan's niece...and her bear. Just so you know, if he breaks anything, you've bought it."

Dee grinned sheepishly and said, "Sorry, but he's usually really well behaved, unless you're an orc or a githyanki. I just wanted to see if you're interested in a few things I've picked up on the way here." She put an assortment of weapons and other items they'd "liberated" on the counter. He seemed to offer fair prices as they negotiated, so she took out her pouch of gems and also carefully unwrapped the bundle of claws, stingers, and teeth she'd collected along their way. "My foster father told me how a mage can add enchantments to weapons and armor using these things," she said, watching the moon elf's eyes.

He arched a delicate eyebrow and replied, "My, you've really been quite a busy girl. I won't ask where you found these things, but you are quite correct, and not only weapons and armor, but cloaks, boots, belts, and gloves as well," he said smoothly as he wrinkled his nose at the smell of a ghast claw he had picked up with forceps. "Quite a bit of undead debris here. What have you been up to, little girl, hmmm?"

She shrugged and replied, "Seems to be a lot of undead everywhere we go. And strange shadow priests controllin' them too."

"Shadow priests?," he asked, arching an eyebrow again.

She shrugged. "Yeah, seems to be some new cult. I was planning to tell the priests at the Temple of Tyr about it."

He sniffed, "Well, dear girl, nearly everything can be enchanted, for a _price_. There is, however, a matter of payment for the work required in distilling these into a usable form, of course."

"Of course, it's only fair," she answered, leaning closer to watch him. "We've found some gems too." He seemed trustworthy, so she poured the bag out on the counter.

He pushed through the pile with a delicate finger. "Quite a bit of obsidian, that's good for minor enchantments, and flawed diamonds, that goes a bit further, though also useful for enchantments against undead and holy weapons. They're quite common stones...oh, but you have a ruby, which is used to add fire enchantments, two blue diamonds, they're quite rare, and quite a few fire opals. These pale green stones aren't good for much...give them to your tiefling companion to give her something to play with...generally, look for deeper colored gems next time you loot...I mean liberate a cemetery or ruins," he said with a bemused smile.

She chuckled and sorted out the pale green ones. "It wasn't like that. We were on a rescue mission. Twice."

"Of course you were, dear girl." he answered. He paused his perusal and picked up a small pale blue opaque stone with an iridescent center. She watched him, leaning down and said, "You see something you like?" He pondered whether she was flirting to try to get a better price.

He held the gem up to look more closely then rolled it around in the palm of his hand. He was silent for several minutes, contemplating the beauty of the stone. Finally he smiled at her and said "I'll take this one as well as use of whatever essences I need from what I can distill from these...bits for my payment."

She grinned at him. "Must be a special gem. I didn't just step off the short cart, you know," she said lightly, reaching to take the stone from him.

He snatched the stone back. "It's called a beljuril, and if you find another of these, guard it closely. It's very rare and a component in the most powerful enchantments. Now then, was there anything else you see that you want here?," he asked with an amused smile, pausing to gage her reaction. However, the earnestness in her eyes told him she really hadn't been flirting. "Pity," he thought. "She isn't bad for a human, though I have socks older than her." He folded his hands and said "I should imagine you'll want healing potions, and I have a wide selection of other potions, as well as some healer's kits and some herbal compounds-the usual analgesics and prophylactics."

She considered the words. "Analgesics? That's for pain, right? Umm, prophylactics?"

"Yes," he replied. "Protective compounds used, for example, to fight disease, or infection, or to keep you from regretting a pleasant evening nine months later."

She blushed and said, "I don't have any call for that, and if Neesh does, she can buy her own." She put everything in her pack but hesitated at the gems. "Keep these for me. I trust you and it's easier to leave them here with you than trying to hide them."

She decided to spare Neeshka the agony of going to the Watch office. Cormick looked harried as he scanned a handful of reports but he smiled to see her and gave her a big hug. "You made it, lass. Little Dierdre. I still can't believe how you've grown. I remember when Lorne used to get in trouble for pulling your braids. I've got that reward I promised you set aside here." But wasn't so happy to see her bear. "Oh, and you should probably keep your friend muzzled. You're liable if he mauls anyone." He took her aside to his office where they could talk privately about Galen and the things she had seen since she saw him at Fort Locke.

"So anyway," she said as she put the pouch with the shards away, "I really need to get into the Blacklake district. Is there any way you can give me a pass? And if you knew how to contact some Harper agents, I think they really need to investigate these shadow priests."

He shook his head sadly. "No, Blacklake is out of the question until this murderer is caught. But if you signed on with the Watch, you could be allowed in once you prove yourself to Captain Brelaina. It shouldn't take long at all. You've had militia training, so you're a step above most of the new recruits, and the criminal element has had a free hand here for too long."

She answered glumly, "The thing is, I'm thinkin' of doin' some traveling as soon as I get rid of these shards. I was even thinkin' I could sign on as a merchant's guard heading south, maybe with Galen. I really hadn't planned to stay here very long. I will consider it though."

He put a comforting hand on her shoulder and said, "I understand, lass. Don't worry, you'll have lots of time to see the world. Now tell me more about these shadow priests."

She and Cillian and returned to the tavern. Fortunately, _he_ and his wolf were no where to be seen. She looked twice to be sure. "Why should I even care? Good, I have no wish to ever see him again," she muttered. As she suspected, Khelgar had already found breakfast, and she raised an eyebrow to see Elanee already at work in the kitchen. Khelgar appeared to be on his fourth plate of the daily special: bacon, fried fish, eggs, and beans. She chuckled and thought "I really am gonna have to help out here just to pay for Khel's food and drink.' Duncan was hustling between serving food to the customers, deftly carrying half a dozen plates at a time balanced along his arm, and running behind the bar to fetch drinks from Sal. He stopped by their table to set a plate down in front of Dee and clear away Khelgar's empties.

Dee thanked him and said, "Uncle, I was thinkin' we could help out around here to pay for our room and board. I see Elanee's already helpin' in the kitchen. Khelgar said he'll help out too, and I guess I could cook, or help with laundry or cleanin' rooms, whatever you need."

Duncan thought about while he ran back to the kitchen to get another armload of plates and said, "I suppose I could use help with waiting tables, lass. As you can see, we get quite a few dock workers and sailors in the mornin'. There's an apron in the storeroom you can use." Dee hoped it was cleaner than the one her uncle was wearing.

Sal leaned over the bar and said, "I've been tellin' ya we need to get a barmaid or two in here to give the joint some class. You should get yerself a more girly shirt and some silk leggings though, lass. You'll get better tips that way."

Duncan shot him a whithering glare and growled, "That's my niece yer talkin' about!."

Sal shrugged and replied, "Hey, I'm just sayin', the lass should use her assets."

Dee chuckled and tried a bite of the fish and decided Elanee had already greatly improved the food.

She had eaten and had seconds, Khelgar had finally finished sevenths, sitting back and releasing a ponderous belch, and she had taken over clearing tables and serving drinks until most of the breakfast crowd had gone before Neeshka finally made an appearance in the common room, yawning and stretching.

"Mornin' fiendling!" Khelgar roared. "'Bout time you got down here."

"I was about to send a search party after you, Neesh," Dee teased as she served drinks.

Neeshka rolled her eyes and answered, "I'm used to doing my best work at night. Besides, it's early. A lot of the merchants are just opening. Now let's get that reward so we can make you look a little less like a yokel."

Dee stuck her tongue out and set a plate and a mug in front of her. "Already done. Here's your share." Dee handed them each a pouch of coins.

Neeshka took a drink and spit it out. "Ewww, tea?"

Khelgar chuckled. "Aye, that's the tree hugger's doin' but tea's for sick folk."

Dee cleared Neeshka's plate then hung up her apron and came back to the table just as Elanee finished in the kitchen and joined them. "Neesh and I'll be back presently."

"What's going on? Neeshka asked.

Dee took her arm and whispered as they slipped out of the tavern, "Let's go at least talk to that Caleb person. From what Cormick said, I don't think bein' with the Watch is gonna get me into Blacklake anytime soon."

Dee clenched her fists so tightly she would have drawn blood if she didn't keep her nails short, but her face was a mask of calm as they stalked away from the alley. Neeshka had a firm hand on her arm sensing her anger as she led Dee away from the alley where they found Caleb and his gang. Finally, Dee could stand it no more. "Break his arms? Gods, thug is too nice a word for that creep! I should have have cut him down!," Dee growled, hands shooting to her swords.

"And his gang would've cut _you_ down," Neeshka replied. "You probably wouldn't have to literally break that merchant's arms, just intimidate him."

Dee spat, "Intimidate someone into handin' over his hard-earned money to that bastard just to make my life easier? Besides, Cillian and I could've taken care of that lot. I'd just as soon tear Caleb's arms off! Hells! Gods! What was I even thinkin'?," she raged. Cillian growled as if he thought mauling the thug was a good idea too. "Neesh, there's no way I could work with that bastard! Gods! I just want to pound him senseless!" She slugged her fist into her palm for emphasis and turned around.

Neeshka grabbed her arm and pulled her back. "Calm down," Neeshka hissed, glancing around to see if anyone was listening. "I warned you he was a thug, and not one to have as an enemy. Truth be told, I'm glad I don't have to work with him anyway. I just think you should let me try some of my contacts before you do anything drastic like joining the Watch. Let's go back and get Khelgar and Elanee and get on with this."

Khelgar grumbled as they walked away from the Temple of Tyr. "He didn't say you couldn't join the order, Khel. You just have to face their trials," Dee said gently. "It makes sense that they don't train anyone who walks in the door."

"Aye, but those trials! How am I gonna even figure out what they mean?" Khelgar roared.

Elanee, who had been following behind, said thoughtfully, "It might help if you offered prayers to Tyr and let him guide you."

Dee nodded and added, "Yeah, that's a good idea, and he never said you couldn't go to the temple every day and _watch_ the monks train. So maybe that's what you should do until you pass the trials."

Neeshka giggled and said, "Nice way to twist his words, Dee. You should be a lawyer."

Khelgar said glumly, "Maybe so. Well I'm not in much of a mood to look at female whatnots, so I'll meet ye at the tavern."

Khelgar waddled off, and Neeshka rolled her eyes and said, "Finally! I really didn't want him standing there tapping his foot and spoiling our fun anyway! And speaking of shopping, there's a shop right up the street here which has things in your size. She caters to customers with special needs."

"Special needs? I ain't _that_ big," Dee said with a huff.

"Yeah, but you're not exactly petite either," Neeshka replied matter-of-factly. "She even carries clothes with tail holes. And she has a few male clients who work at the Mask."

"My size? Men?" Dee asked.

"Yes, well men who cross-dress," Neeshka replied.

"Cross-dress?," Dee asked, looking thoroughly puzzled.

Neeshka answered, "Dress in women's clothes. I guess you didn't have any of that in West Harbor."

"Oh," Dee said with a grin. "Um no, not that I know of anyway."

Elanee looked longingly at the green expanse of the city park and said, "I don't really need anything other than some new boots. I'll meet you at the park when you're finished." With hardly a backward glance, she and her badger ran off.

Dee chuckled and said, "Cill, go with them and keep them out of trouble." She watched as the bear caught up with the druid.

Neeshka led Dee to a shop, pushed open the door, and pulled Dee inside. They were approached by a dainty Gold Elf who who greeted them with a cold stare and an arched eyebrow as if she was deciding whether she would need to use the magics that protected her shop. Neeshka patted her coin pouch and opened it to show they were serious customers; that seemed to alleviate her concerns somewhat, though she still had a pinched expression as if she smelled something bad.

She pointed a long, delicate finger. "The tiefling section is to your left. I'm assuming you're mainly interested in dark clothing?" she asked, with a hint of disdain.

"Actually, yes, but we're really looking for something to fit my friend here. Something a bit more feminine?" Neeshka asked hopefully.

"Something a bit less...rustic too, I should imagine," the elf sniffed. She glided over to Dee and walked around her twice without saying a word, then stood looking at her with a finger pressed against her lips. Finally, she said, "I'm assuming from the swords you're not in the market for gowns... How tall are you? Just over six feet?" she asked, as she motioned Dee to a chair.

"A bit over, yes," Dee replied as she sat.

The elf said with a grimace, "Goodness, You have the shoulders of a blacksmith! You certainly need something to distract from those. You are well proportioned for your size though. Overall, however, I'd say your legs are your best feature, apart from your hair. It's so lovely I don't know why you let it languish in that sloppy braid. You should wear it coiled on top of your head like a crown or loose around your shoulders. " She nodded as if confirming it to herself then stretched up and unbraided her hair. Dee shot Neeshka a pleading look. "You will want some silk trewes for sure. Let's see, some undergarments too... these should fit you. Black lace, I'm guessing? Warrior women always seem to want to wear something delicate under their armor. These are the new Waterdhavian cut. Oh, and you simply must have this season's bodice. They're cut lower now, under the breast, which should serve to distract from your shoulders." She handed Dee a pile of garments to try on. "I'm assuming black for you as well? The dressing room is behind that curtain."

Dee smiled sweetly and replied, mimicking the elf, "Oh, black is just _so_ overdone this season, don't you agree? Do you have anything in pink?"

They bought more than either of them intended, though in the end nothing in pink, and Neeshka had insisted Dee wear something new as they left the shop, whispering to the merchant, "Can you take her old things and burn them?"

Dee picked up a few trinkets for her friends back in West Harbor, banishing the thought that she probably wouldn't be able to deliver them any time soon from her mind. She found a jig for making bowstrings for Daeghun at a nearby weapons shop. Dee suffered through the indignity of a "free make-over" at another shop where she was praised for her high cheekbones but her eyebrows were compared to two woolly caterpillars, and she restrained herself admirably when she was asked if they'd ever heard of tweezers in the swamp. She stared at herself when they brought her a mirror muttering, "I don't even recognize myself!" She bought a variety of kohl sticks, ointments and rouges anyway and hoped she could remember what to do with them all.

They collected Elanee, poked around in other shops, bought boots for Sand to enchant, takeaway fish and chips from a street vendor, caramel apples from another, pretzels from yet another, and looked at the diversions of the city. Dee strained on her toes at the gate leading to Blacklake trying to get a view of Castle Never, ignoring the scowling Watchman. "Is that it?," she asked pointing excitedly.

"No, that's just the Academy, " Neeshka answered, pointing with her tail. "It's behind it, but all you can see is that one tower. You can see the theatre from here though, oh, and that's the temple of Lathander. Too bad we can't visit and make a donation," Neeshka said slyly. Dee made a mental note to never take Neeshka into a temple if she could help it.

They went inside the Moonstone Mask and asked to speak with Ophala. They were directed to a tired looking dark haired half-elven woman massaging her temples at a table near the bar, who gave them and their animals a quick once-over and said crisply, "Auditions for specialty performers are tomorrow. Come back then."

Dee looked at Neeshka then Elanee and mouthed the words "specialty performers?" She gasped in horror and put a hand over her mouth as the realization of what Ophala said sunk in. "Why she thinks we're...see what comes of wearin' all this paint?" she hissed, scowling at Neeshka.

Neeshka hissed back "With the animals, she probably thinks we're entertainers."

Dee strode over to her and said, "Umm, we're not here to audition, m'am." "I really need your help to get into Blacklake. 'Tis quite urgent that I talk to Aldanon the sage."

Ophala raised a chiseled eyebrow at Dee. "Really. Melia, bring the ladies here some drinks and some water for their animals. I do hope they're housebroken? Please sit down and tell me what's so urgent."

Dee, beginning to feel for bards repeating the same story over and over again, took a deep breath and did, sparing no detail. "And so that's why I 'tis urgent I see this Aldanon, to find out what these shards are and how I can get rid of them, not that I'd wish Githyanki attacks on whoever ends up with them. And then we need to find out what's poisoning the Mere. And who's behind the shadow priests plaguing every cemetery and crypt from here to the Mere." Dee leaned in close and said softly, "My gut tells me this is somethin' big, and I'm just one person. And even with my friends, we're only four people. It's way too much for me to take on. I was thinkin' that you might know how to get in touch with some Harper agents."

Ophala sat back, sipped her wine, and said, "My, that certainly was a tale. Unfortunately, no one is allowed to enter the Blacklake district. The Watch at the gate can't be bribed for love or money, and believe me, many of my patrons have tried. I have citizens who can't go home who have been forced to share what rooms I can spare from my regular business. Your best bet if you must speak to him is to join the Watch, my dear." She whispered, "However, I will make inquiries as to putting you in contact with the Harpers too."

They took their leave of Ophala and walked tiredly back to the Flagon. Dee was exhausted, her new boots pinched, and her stomach was rumbling dangerously from something she had eaten. She had seen robberies and purse-cutting practiced indiscriminately, and other thugs like Caleb bullying people in the streets. "Neesh isn't going to like this, but I need to join the Watch, and from the looks of things, the Watch needs us too," she thought. "But that's a problem for tomorrow."


	4. Settling In

Settling In

Usual Disclaimers: The characters in this chapter are owned by Bioware and a whole lot of other people and not by me, with the exception of a bear-lovin' ranger and an occasional NPC. Concrit and reviews appreciated.

They had settled into a routine, helping out in the Flagon around Dee's Watch duties, though she seemed to be reserved for "special projects." In no time at all, Dee had acquired a few new nicknames bestowed by the patrons of the Flagon-"Legs," the even more clever "Blondie," and even "Longshanks." She rolled her eyes and laughed. There had been a few incidents though where patrons emboldened by drink got too free with their hands that led to her or Khelgar and especially Duncan putting the offending party in his place with a shout of "Oi! That's my niece there, not some festhall wench!" She found it funny how quickly Duncan assumed a paternal attitude towards her, and thought bitterly how different he was from his brother.

Dee quickly earned a reputation as a hard-fisted brawler too, wading into the fray right beside the dwarf. She was only sorry that _he_ did his best to ignore her except for when she caught him watching her and he sneered and looked away(and Elanee annoyed Dee by observing that she had to be watching _him_ to see that _he_ had been watching her), sending all his orders through the bar and offering her no excuse to pummel him, though she did take satisfaction in luring his wolf away from him with a bit of meat or a bone more than once.

Dee had set things straight with Neeshka their second tenday in the city. "You don't shite where you eat, Neesh," she hissed at the tiefling, grabbing her by the horn and pulling her into the storeroom.

Neeshka, who had been reaching for a dock worker's pouch dangling from his belt, gave her a look of abject horror. "Ow! Hells, Dee, that's really disgusting! I didn't do it! Who _would?_ It had to be the dwarf! Or the tree-hugger! Ow! Or the badger! Or your bear!"

Dee gave her a stern look then darted her eyes at the man Neeshka had been stalking. "Oh, I see what you're saying. Harborman humor. Good one," she said and she elbowed Dee hard in the ribs until she released her horn. "Alright, I guess you're right. Don't need to cause trouble with your uncle. I'll go work the Prancing Unicorn."

"You could just help serve here too, you know. Sal's right, the tips aren't bad." Dee patted her belt pouch, which caused Neeshka to recoil wide-eyed in further horror. "Me? A bar wench? Serving drinks? Putting up with having my tits groped or my butt pinched or my tail grabbed? Ugh!"

Dee shrugged. "'Tis a whole lot safer than dealin' with your former partner and his goons, isn't it?"

Dee settled easily into life as a member of the Watch thanks to her militia training, and her special assignments around the city, at least the parts they were allowed into, gave her ample opportunities to explore her new home. It pleased her no end that one of her first assignments was to bring Caleb and his gang in, and part of her felt a dark pleasure that he resisted arrest. She was good at what she did, which brought her both wanted and unwanted attention. Not that it got her any closer to Blacklake however, and even more frustrating, Neeshka had turned out to have a lot more enemies than friends who could slip them past the guards, so that was a dead end. Furthermore, Leldon, Neeshka's former partner and former lover apparently, seemed to want her dead or at least grievously injured, and this extended to anyone unfortunate enough to be found with her.

Dee discovered a street of booksellers near the temple of Oghma, which astounded her-a whole street! She consoled herself with a map of the Sword Coast she purchased and hung on the wall in her room, where she marked the places she had been with pins and traced roads and paths and marked all the places she wanted to go once she was finally free of those damned shards. She also purchased a used set of all of Volo's guides and read them over and over in the bath, pointing out interesting entries to Cillian lying on the floor beside her, who just grunted bearishly at her. Soon she felt she knew the Sword Coast as well as she knew West Harbor, but her frustration at the wait was like an ache in her gut that didn't stop. Fortunately, her uncle had a small forge in the back of the tavern, so she also pounded out her frustration on metal and had so far produced a few swords and knives that a local weaponsmith actually thought were good enough to buy.

She also spent an imprudent amount of her tip money on cosmetics. Daeghun would not have approved, but he was the one who sent her here, so she reasoned that he was partly to blame. She made the common novice mistake of applying her paint too liberally and ended up a couple of times looking clownish or whorish, but with just a little practice, she learned that with a bit of kohl or a touch of red on her cheeks she could easily alter her appearance from wide-eyed innocent to hard and deadly. Besides, she discovered that a heavy coat of kohl around the eyes helped cut down the glare on a sunny day, something _he_ seemed to have discovered too, not that she was watching him, despite what Elanee and Neeshka said.

Dee became a regular visitor to the Moonstone Mask, usually with Neeshka in tow, at first to see if Ophala had any news for her. But as time went on, she learned that it was a good place in general to gather information, especially if she let someone buy her a drink. She also began to develop a fascination with the ladies of the Mask in their ephemeral black gowns, and their ephemeral world, who were unlike any women she had ever seen before. They in turn delighted in trying to transform the "country rat" into a sleek "city mouse." By her third visit, she and Ohpala had developed a casual friendship, and by her fourth visit, Ophala broached the subject of working at the Mask.

She took Dee aside and said, "My dear, you could make much more serving drinks here than at your uncle's tavern, and you would also make an attractive bouncer if you would prefer not to serve drinks. It would take quite a bit of training in music and dancing and the art of conversation to soften your rough edges before you could become one of my ladies, but you have potential. Lord Hendall there has already asked if you were available. He's very rich, and he has a fondness for tall blonds in leather." Ophala indicated a well-dressed older man sitting at a table alone.

Dee blinked and gasped "Me? I could never...I mean, what would my father say? He disapproves of everything I do as it is. Besides, I've never even..."

Ophala raised a delicate eyebrow. "Never? Saving yourself for marriage then? Or do you prefer women?"

Dee shook her head and replied, "It's not that. 'Tis just that were I'm from that's the same thing as settlin' down to raise a family, and I'm not ready for that now. And we didn't have mages right across the street sellin' potions to prevent that. Besides, I don't know if I could with someone I wasn't attracted to."

Ophala put an arm around her shoulder and said silkily, "My dear, it's all in the mind. You just convince yourself you love them for the night. The trick is never to fall in love. Besides, you're going to meet someone if you stay around the city much longer anyway, so why not earn a few hundred gold for your trouble instead of giving yourself to some handsome adventurer who might make you more inclined to settle down? It is a little thing, after all. Take a few lovers and you'll be more able to resist a handsome man's charms until he's the right man."

Dee grinned and said, "Thanks for the advice. I still don't think I could, but I'll let you know if I change my mind. Besides, as much as I like it here, I get an itch if I'm in the city too long. I'd much rather be scouting out a trail or fightin' orcs."

She slipped out of town for a day or two with Cillian and Elanee and her badger when she grew weary of the city and longed for the peace of the wild, looking for what remained of the Neverwinter Circle, though after the first time they both just enjoyed the freedom of being out. She never stayed away long though, fearing that she would miss her meeting with Aldanon or that the Gith would attack with greater numbers than they had sent against her thus far. So they hunted, fished, and just lazed about in the forest. On her third time out, she had been teased by Duncan about not bringing anything back the first two times, so she resolved to get a deer, or at least a proper catch of fish. Elanee flushed a huge buck towards her, and she had it in her sights, aimed her arrow, and loosed. It buckled and went down in the brush, and she ran to it, only to see a familiar chestnut-haired man already there starting to bleed it. His wolf whined a greeting to her.

"Hey! That's my deer!," she growled.

He looked at her coldly. "It's _my_ deer, with _my_ arrow in its heart. Check the fletchings. That's _your_ arrow over there," he said, nodding at her arrow sticking in the ground.. "I wouldn't have missed _that_ badly. What are you, blind?"

"Yeah? Screw you!," she hissed, snatching her arrow and hurrying back to her camp, cursing him for discovering the one thing that even Daeghun had never figured out when he scolded her for not spending enough time improving her archery-she was short-sighted and often couldn't clearly see the target, so she usually shot based on sound, or instinct. That was why she preferred taking the fight to her enemies, which was fine when hunting orcs, but not so good when trying to catch a meal.

She awakened her first morning back from Old Owl Well with the Morninglord's first light and washed her face, then applied midnight blue kohl around her eyes, which gave her a harder and older aspect, but she left off painting rouge on her cheeks or lips or applying powder as she would have done if this were one of her rare free days. She had to get to the Watch headquarters to turn in her report, so she went down for breakfast before she got into her armor. Duncan, looking harried, told her Qara was nowhere to be found and begged her to take over for her. Dee grabbed an apron, muttering curses under her breath. Dee had finished the breakfast shift as Qara finally showed up to work.

Dee's first impression of Qara had been that she was a whiny, spoiled brat, unlike anyone she had known or could have imagined in West Harbor, who acted more like a six year old throwing a tantrum than a serious spellcaster. But she had tried to give her the benefit of the doubt and taken the sorceress with her on Captain Breilana's last "special" mission to find a missing emissary, reasoning that they could the extra firepower, and she thought the girl would appreciate a break from waiting tables. But after enduring her whining about the cold, the bugs, sleeping on the hard ground, her sore feet, trail rations, and so on for a tenday, not to mention Qara's appalling lack of concern about injuring her own companions with careless casting of deadly spells, she vowed to never recruit her again unless she had to. Dee tossed her apron at Qara and growled, "Thanks for waking up, now that the rush is over. I was to be at the Watch office an hour ago!"

Dee slipped behind the bar and filled a mug with mead, which she drained on her way to her room. She donned her leathers; she had gotten her time down to five minutes to get them on and fasten all the straps. Next she knelt down next to her weapon rack and considered her assortment of long and short swords, before slipping a long sword enchanted to add fire damage and a silver short sword she had made herself and Sand had enchanted with lightning into her scabbards. Finally, she checked that her pouches were secure and fastened her Watch cloak then headed back to arrange to meet Khelgar, Elanee, and Casavir at the Moonstone Mask after she had their assignment from Cormick.

"The Waterdeep emissary speaks highly of you, lieutenant. That was quite a rescue."

Dee chuckled and sat on the edge of Cormick's desk, facing him, and crossed her legs. "Lucky for him he was bein' held by orcs. Don't know if I'd have been as diligent if he'd been captured by kolbolds. But I couldn't have done it without my friends. Orcs are treacherous bastards, and I might not even be here if a paladin who hated them as much as I do and his men hadn't stumbled on the battle. Now, does it get me any closer to Aldanon?"

He smiled sympathetically. "If it were up to me, you would've been allowed to see Aldanon tendays ago, but it's not up to me, it's up to Captain Brelaina. Is your report ready?"

"Gods, what more does she want?," Dee snarled with exasperation as she handed her report to Cormick. "Seems like she's gettin' most of the benefit of our arrangement. Not that the Docks didn't need cleanin' up, or that I minded helpin' out but...I feel like I'm a tool for her...ambitions. Am I wrong?" She leaned back with her arms stretched out behind her and watched him.

He raised an eyebrow at her and grunted but said nothing, which told her as much as if he had agreed. She watched him silently as he read through it. "And becoming a permanent member of the Watch wasn't part of your plan, Dee. I can really sympathize, more than you know. It wasn't my plan once either. You encountered more members of this shadow cult?" He paused to look at her. "Necromantic priests? Sounds to me like someone's trying to create an army of undead. Lord Nasher should be informed of this, but that's up to the Captain too. It's hard to get people concerned when it's not happening here though."

She stood and stretched as he gazed at her then looked away, flushing, reminding himself that she was the daughter of his friend.

She smiled at his reaction and wondered if he would be more friendly if she asked him for a drink at the Mask. But she got back to her business for being there-time for that later. "I think if this cult spreads here, it'll be pretty hard to stop it by that point. And it may already be here. I'd check the Blacklake district cemeteries and look for unusual activity among the spoiled brats of the nobility, but that's just my opinion. Anyway, what's my special assignment today?"

"The captain wants you to investigate a Luskan ship called "the Sea Ghost" he said, turning to face her again.

"Investigate?" she asked.

"Aye, investigate, and let them know we're aware of their presence. Luskan is making...incursions again, testing the waters, knowing that the city isn't ready to go to war again," he answered, crossing his arms over his chest.

She turned to go and looked back at him over her shoulder. "The more Luskans I meet, the less I like them anyway. Let me go collect my crew and my bear. But if this isn't enough for Captain Brelaina, I'm thinkin' of heading for Longsaddle. There's said to be a whole family of mages there, and there's bound to be someone who can figure out what these shards are and why I have those githyanki after me."

Cormick answered with a sigh, "It would be a shame to lose you, Dee. Just give her some more time. There's a great deal of pressure being brought to bear on her with the murders of more lords. You must see that your problems can seem less significant compared to stopping a murderer. Besides, I think I have something that will tempt you to stay."

She turned and walked back to him, smiling. "Looks like I'm not gonna have to get a drink or two in him after all," she thought. "Indeed? What do you have to...tempt me with," she purred in her best imitation of Ophala.

He flushed again and quickly reached into his desk. He stammered, "Dee...Dierdre, I've known you since you were a babe. Your father is a trusted friend." He fumbled in his desk then drew his hand out and held out a harp-shaped pin to her in his palm.

"Aye, and I'm all grown now, in case you haven't noticed." She gave him a puzzled look as he handed her the pin and asked "What's this?," even though she knew.

He stepped forward and pinned it to the underside of her cloak. "You've proven that you have a knack for gathering information. We could use you as a scout, if you're interested. It can be dangerous work, but you've proved more than capable of handling danger."

She turned back her cloak and gazed at the pin then at Cormick. "Me? But I'm just a girl from West Harbor."

Cormick grinned and answered, "Aye, and I was just a lad from West Harbor as well. We all start somewhere, Dee. I've already said you're more than capable, and Ophala agrees, and so does the agent you met on the way to Old Owl Well. So are you in?"

She realized she had been staring at him, mouth agape the whole time he spoke. "Casavir?"

He shook his head. "The paladin, right? They don't make good Harper agents. They're too concerned with doing things by the book."

She scratched her head trying to make sense of his words. "Well then, that only leaves...Grobby? Couldn't be. Oh hells no!" But his grin spoke the truth of the matter. "Ophala too? That makes more sense. So what do I do now?"

He shrugged. "Pretty much the same as you've been doing. Investigating, reporting, saving wayward emissaries. I assume you're in then. Come back after you deal with the Luskans and I'll show you more."


	5. Saving Shandra

It was always the same. She was standing at a crossroads, swords out to her sides, peering at three roads that diverged left, right, and forward. To the right, atop a hill, appeared to be a shining city, though the way was perilously steep. To the left the road seemed to lead to another city, but the way to it was through dark, sensual ancient forests that had never known the woodsman's axe. The way ahead led to a flat endless, plain, but all three paths were obscured by the mists. And something was out there, waiting. Dee awoke and sat up in bed. It wasn't the first time she had had this dream. Maybe it was time to talk to someone about it, but who? She reached for a bottle of mead on her bedside table and took a long pull then glanced out the window to judge the hour and met a pair of soft brown eyes looking at her to see if everything was alright. She said, "'Twas just another dream, my love," and reached a hand out to scratch the bear behind the ears then lay back in bed and drifted back to sleep.

_Kalach-cha! _She thought it was just another bad dream at first; this one was even more frequent, occurring two or three times in a tenday. Like so many nights since she left West Harbor she awoke with a start, heart pounding, gasping for breath and grabbing for her swords, with the shouts of _Kalach-cha_ still ringing in her ears before she realized it wasn't happening. But she sat up as she realized that her uncle's shouts that they were under attack were very real, as were the shouts of _Kalach-cha_, and Cillian was roaring and clawing at the door. She flew out of bed and snatched up her favorite swords from the growing collection in her weapon rack before she was even fully awake.

Throwing open her door, she saw a Gith warrior bearing down on Duncan, who was holding it off with a belaying pin he kept behind the bar for dealing with troublemakers. She drove her short sword into its back, giving it a quick twist in what she hoped was its kidney, a move Neeshka had taught her. She jerked the sword free and the Gith slid to the floor. She followed her bear, who had rushed a group of of them running towards her down the hall. One of them crumpled to the floor, a look of surprise frozen on his face, and Neeshka grinned at her from behind him. Dee slashed viciously up with her left then down with her right hand to nearly beheaded another of the things while Cillian mauled a third. They fought their way down to the common room back to back, joining Casavir and Khelgar already there putting their hammers to good use and followed by Elanee, still pulling on her robe. Dee fought murderously, slashing away at every one of the green-skinned creatures she could find. Grobnar whistled a tune, and suddenly with the power of his spell, her aim felt truer and her mind more focused.

Once the carnage ended she surveyed the scene. She found herself grimly wiping her swords as she stared into the eyes of one she had just killed. She scanned the room, silently counting heads to ensure that her friends and companions were alive. She paused when she saw that even the _horse's ass _was there with his wolf at his side, retrieving his arrows from corpses, and from the look of things, he had done his part. Dee was amazed he didn't sleep through the fight considering how much he seemed to drink. She wouldn't have been surprised if he had pissed himself when the attack started and found a place to hide. "Guess he's more of a man than I thought," she whispered to Cillian. She chalked it up to his instinct for self-preservation. No doubt he had passed out at his table as he often did and his wolf had awakened him. He was on one knee, where he had been carefully working out an arrow buried deep in the back of a Gith warrior without breaking it, but he had paused, hands still on the arrow, to stare at her. Their eyes met. She returned him a defiant glare and asked, "What are you lookin' at?"

He had been nocking another arrow looking for another green-skinned target when he saw her swoop down upon them. Prior to this night, although he'd seen her get in a few tavern brawls alongside the dwarf, he had never seen her in battle before, though he had come across the aftermath of a few around the district. There was something terrible about her expression of determined fury that chilled his soul. It was nothing like the glazed mindless look of a bezerker; it was rather the opposite, the look of cold, deliberate murder. He swallowed hard as he realized that at that moment he'd never seen a woman look more beautiful.

When it was over, he was making his way around the common room, retrieving what arrows he could salvage and looting whatever he could before the tiefling beat him to it when he saw her again. She had dropped to her haunches over her last kill in a pool of its blood, balanced forward on her toes as she cleaned her swords on its tabbard. She seemed oblivious to the blood flowing freely from her own wounds that was staining her nightshirt crimson. Her long moonlight pale hair spilled over her shoulders. A lantern that had been hit during the fray swinging wildly on its hook cast her in light, then shadow, then light again. Was she an angel of vengance, or a demon from the lowest hells?

Then she looked around and caught him staring and met his eyes coolly. He sure couldn't tell her what he had been thinking--it would make him weak to admit that a wench had got to him like that. So he said the first thing that came to mind to take back control. With his most practiced, filthiest leer, he said "What am I looking at? Cyric's balls, woman! If that shirt was any shorter...from this angle, I can almost tell if you're a natural blonde."

But she didn't react, not even a blush. Nor did she move for that matter. She just gave him that same look she had been giving the dead gith at her feet and answered, "Well I hope you got a good look, because it's the closest _you're_ ever going to get."

Once they realized that Shandra was missing, Sal was dispatched to search for her and make sure, but Dee was already planning her rescue. Something made Bishop point out the sprig of duskwood he had seen stuck in the sandal of one of the dead Giths he looted, even though a voice inside him told him, "Shut up, fool, or you'll be trapped." He cursed himself for wanting, no, needing to impress her. Duncan had insisted Bishop go along to rescue Shandra. Dee shot Duncan a pained look like he had just slapped her, while Bishop shot Duncan a look like he could murder him. "I don't need _him_. My father taught me more about tracking then he'll ever know," she answered testily.

Something passed between Bishop and Duncan then that Dee nearly missed as she was focused on organizing the mission. She heard, "So you're calling it due?" It gave her a moment's pause, but she had too much to think about, and she wasn't one to get involved in others' affairs anyway. She didn't care what he owed her uncle; it was their secret. And when she had calmed down enough to think more rationally, she saw that Duncan was right--she had never been in Luskan territory and had already made enemies there, so it was no place to get lost or run into a patrol, not with Shandra's life at stake. So if the horse's ass knew his way around the Duskwood, she would put up with him.

"So be it," she said. "Be ready to go within the hour, no drinkin' on the trail, and Bishop, watch your tongue or I'll cut it out." He snorted and answered her with that sardonic laugh of his, "Yeah, sweetheart, I'm sure that's _really_ what you want with my tongue. But I assume the no drinking on the trail goes for you too."

"We needed to travel light and fast," she said, ignoring him though he noticed that he finally found something to make her blush. "Neesh, find Cas some lighter armor--some studded leather or some of that darksteel chain we set aside should do. You'll make too much noise and slow us down in your plate, _Katalmach_. Khel, that goes for you too. And no arguing!" They both looked like they were about to argue, but seeing the look of iron determination on her face thought better of it and followed Neeshka back towards their rooms.

Then she felt warmth spread through her body and turned to Elanee, who had been busy healing the company and had just come up behind her, laying a hand on her shoulder and murmuring the words of a healing spell. "Thanks again El, now run over to Sand's, tell him what happened, grab whatever healing potions he has on hand and anything else he suggests too, and tell him to put them on my account. He knows I'm good for it." She tried not to think about the tab she ran up at Sand's shop, but he did still have her gems and reagents for payment if she didn't make it back. "Uncle, get us some food and waterskins for the road."

She spotted Grobnar and approached him, dropping back down to gnome-level to look the little man in the eye. "Grobby, I know you want to help, but you're no use to Shandra if you can't keep up with the rest of us. I think Cil will let you ride on his back for a little while if you have to, but if you even _think_ you'll slow us down, stay here." The gnome gaped at her and nodded, speechless for once, but recovering enough as he ran off to the room he shared with Casavir to wonder aloud if there was a bear-sized saddle on the premises.

She thought, "I got them moving, I'd better get myself moving too" and turned towards the hall. She spotted Qara, who had appeared late at the fight only to cast a _fireball_ spell recklessly that burned both Neeshka and Casavir and damaged two tables and part of the floor of the tavern in the process. "No wonder Sand was always calling her 'that idiot girl.' But at least she doesn't have to memorize spells," Dee thought. Gods, now there was an idea. She should coax Sand away from the safety of his shop to take up adventuring. She couldn't help but notice that Qara was the only one not getting ready to go. Instead, she had casually walked behind the bar and poured herself a glass of wine.

Dee said with exasperation, "Qara, what are you doing? Get moving! Grab what you need for the road. Now! We're leaving within the hour."

Qara gave her a bored look and replied, "I hope you don't expect me to run off in the middle of the night into the middle of nowhere to rescue some farm girl I don't even know."

Dee snapped, "Fine then, you can stay here and wipe tables."

Qara snapped back, "I paid off your uncle with my share from the orc lairs, so I don't owe either of you anything. I _might_ work for you in here in the city when you need me--for the right price." She turned and swished back to her room.

Dee punched the wall and growled, "Mileikki, give me strength not to throttle the little bitch!," and stormed off with Cillian to her room. She forced away a dark urge to toss a dagger at the sorceress's retreating back. She hadn't hated many people in her life, though she did have a strong dislike for the _horse's ass _already, but she was begnning to truly despise Qara.

She stopped at the women's bath to pour a few buckets of water over herself as she stood over the drain to rinse off the drying blood, wincing as the hot water poured over a few wounds that Elanee's spell hadn't quite healed. She nearly tossed her nightshirt into the refuse bin but thought better of it, partly because of the sentimental value of it, and partly because she had been raised to waste nothing. At the very least, it could be laundered and torn up for rags. She snatched it up gingerly with the tips of her fingers then ran to her room, rendering Grobnar speechless for the second time that night when he popped out of his room and nearly stumbled into her just as she passed.

She tossed the shirt into a basket just inside her door and left five gold on top for the widow who did the patron's laundry by way of apology for the mess. Of course, she could have had several new nightshirts for five gold, but it was the principle of it. In less than five minutes she dressed, and in less than ten more she had donned her new armor, which she had recently bought from one of Cormick's contacts in the merchant quarter. It had cost her an obscene amount of gold, but the special enchantments added especially for Harper scouts were supposed to make it worth the price. By now she had also purchased another pack so she always had one ready to go at a moment's notice.

She strapped on her weapon belt and strapped an extra sword on her back along with her bow, taking great satisfaction in her growing efficiency. Even with the stop for the quick rinse, she was ready to go within half an hour. As she braided her hair tightly and fastened her cloak, she recalled wryly that night she left West Harbor when she numbly shoved whatever clothes were at hand into one of her father's old rucksacks, along the first food she saw, and everything in his chest, including a book on Elven enchantments. Consequently, she left with two changes of clothes, all of her undergarments, a handful of mismatched socks, for food only half a dozen apples and pears, a book she had no use for as it was written in Elvish, and somehow she also packed one of Daeghun's tunics that would in no way fit her.

They traveled for days into the mountains towards the Duskwood, resting only when necessity--exhaustion or hunger--overtook them. Grobnar surprised her by using spells to help him keep up. But Bishop surprised her even more, showing her a serious for once with few of his usual crude remarks. He really was a different person out here, she thought. He laughed and smiled without adding a sardonic sneer. Out of the city he was at first tolerable, then useful, and later she reluctantly admitted, sometimes pleasant to be around. She thought he had quite a nice smile when he wasn't scowling. The Gith had laid a few false trails which had cost them time, but working together they had found the right path. She developed a grudging respect for Bishop's tracking skills, which she realized _were_ better than her own, and his wolf was almost as deadly in a fight as her bear.

While his one weakness as she saw it was that he didn't engage in melee unless he was forced to, still he was as ruthless as Neeshka with his dagger. In addition, he was an almost ludicrously good shot with his bow, and he seemed never to miss his target. She even heard him calling his shots one time when they had been attacked while they were at rest and she was close enough to him to hear him. "Right eye" he muttered as she sprinted past with her swords drawn, and once the killing was done and they were searching the bodies, she saw that he had hit his mark.

They also had things in common besides a love for the wild; for example, she discovered that they both practiced making various bird and animal calls, which really wasn't all that strange though, considering their vocation. He was helpful in finding a safe place to rest, making camp quickly, and foraging or hunting for food or fresh water, and he even sincerely complemented her tracking when she spotted a half footprint he had missed.

True, sometimes Bishop reverted to his old ways: he had an annoying habit of baiting the paladin, like during one rest break when she overheard him pointing out a poison oak plant to Casavir. "Those leaves are safe to use for bum wipe, your holiness." Dee chuckled as the paladin answered tersely, "I spent three years in the wilds around Old Owl Well. I certainly know what poison oak looks like, ranger." But for the most part, she decided Bishop wasn't such a horse's ass after all. He must have just had a hard life, she reasoned, and she started to think, in that ridiculously dreamy optimistic manner that some women have, that maybe she could soften his rough spots and help him heal.

Dee droped down next to Neeshka and shook out her bedroll when they took a break for some much-needed sleep. She watched Bishop as he walked off to take first watch. "You know, Neesh, I wonder if it's the drink or life in the city or both that have such a poisonous effect on him," and she asked quietly, "How long before I become as jaded and cynical as he is if I stay in the city."

Neeshka rolled her eyes and answered, "Hells, Dee, you can't be serious. I think you've had too much sun when _he_ starts looking good."

She turned on her side to face the tiefling. "Come on, Neesh. You have to admit, he's not bad looking. He has pretty eyes. And besides, he smells really good. And I think he's just had a hard life. You have to admit, he's been useful out here." Dee leaned closer and whispered, "If I had met him out here, we might have been become friends," and maybe more, she thought.

Neeshka waved her hand in front of Dee's face. "I don't have to admit anything. And you know what? I'm gonna get the paladin to see if you've been charmed or something. Hells, Dee, you really do like bad men. What happened with the marshall you were after?"

Dee shrugged and turned over to lie on her back. "I gave up on him. I tried everything the ladies at the Mask said I should do to show him I was interested, but he backed away like I was offering him poison."

Neeshka rolled her eyes and said, "I can see it now. All he needs is what, the love of a good woman? A good lay and he'll be helping old women across the street and attending temple every Godsday. You need to get laid, Dee, and you don't have to look far. The paladin can't take his eyes off you, in case you haven't noticed."

Dee, who _hadn't_ noticed, shuddered involuntarily and answered, "Cas? I could _never_...Don't get me wrong, he's really handsome, he's a good man, but he's too much like my father. Now Shandra I could see him with. Besides, I don't see the attraction. I drink too much, I don't walk away from a fight, I swear like a sailor, and I'm not even all that good looking. I mean come on, El's beautiful, you're much cuter than me, and Shandra's prettier too, no matter how much paint I layer on. I don't know what it is. Maybe I should ask El if I give off some scent that attracts them. Or Cil." She grinned and turned around and ruffled the bear's fur and asked, "Do I give that bitch-in-heat scent?" The bear grunted at her and lay back down. What did he know? Two-legged females did nothing for him.

Neeshka grinned and said, "Don't sell yourself short, Dee. You're not that bad now that you've tamed your eyebrows. At least you're prettier than Qara. And you have an ass you could bounce a gold piece off."

Dee chuckled and said, "I think a seahag is prettier than Qara with that snotty look she always has on her face. Let's get some sleep. Maybe I'll fix _you_ up with Cas."

Neeshka shuddered, turned on her side and muttered, "You're an evil woman, Dee."

They approached the village of Ember. She knew in her gut that something was wrong. The Gith hadn't been making much effort to hide their passing, so they were wary of another ambush. She was on point, swords drawn, with Neeshka and Cillian following hard behind her, the others a bit farther back, and Bishop, Grobnar, and Elanee in the rear with their bows. It was quiet--too quiet. The birds were silent, and she noticed there were no other animals to be seen anywhere. Or villagers, for that matter, in a farm village in the middle of the day. She signaled by touching her ear with a slight shake of her head and gesturing for the others to fan out, and Bishop returned a barely perceptable nod as he nocked two arrows, a trick she'd only seen Daeghun pull off with much accuracy. Mere heartbeats later the Gith sprang out all around them from houses and outbuildings, and two arrows tore into one that was sneaking up behind her.

The Gith had been very careful after that attempted ambush not to leave tracks, and day a out of Ember the trail went dead cold, just when it seemed like they nearly had them. Dee stomped her foot furiously and snarled, "Oh Beshaba's cu..."

Casavir blanched and admonished her, "My lady! Such language does not suit you, and you would do well to avoid blasphemy, even against the dark gods!"

Dee sighed, chastened, and said, "Sorry, Cas. Allright, everyone wait here and rest while you can. El, can you still take your bird form?"

Elanee grinned and replied by taking the form of a red-tailed hawk and flew into the air.

Dee stretched and popped her back and said, "Come on, Bishop. Time to make yourself useful."

They set out with their animal companions in opposite directions from the last sign of the Gith's passing, which involved searching crouched close to the ground in widening concentric circles looking for anything to show them the path. After an hour of such painstaking and painful searching, Dee spotted a loose pile of rocks and dirt that looked like it had recently slid down the hill from above. She made the call of a swamp thrush, a prearranged signal, then continued to work her way up a ridge while she waited for either Bishop or Elanee to get to her. Suddenly he surprised her coming around the ridge ahead of her, and she nearly jumped out of her skin, slashing out with her long sword and stopping her swing mere inches from his throat as she recognized him. He smirked at her, pushed her blade aside with a finger, and gestured to her to follow him. "I found something." He pointed at a brownish lump behind a large rock.

She cocked her head at him and replied, "Shite, Bish. Smells like you found something too," as she dropped to her haunches for a closer look, wrinkling her nose as she poked it with a stick. "Didn't come from any critter I know. You think 'tis Gith scat? Sloppy of 'em not burying it."

He grinned and said, "Yeah, that's what I was thinkin' too."

She stood and folded her hands over her eyes and scanned the sky. "I don't see El anywhere."

He pointed at a speck in the sky and drawled, "You mean her? Plain as the nose on your face, dear leader." He waved until he got the druid's attention so she could fly back and lead the others to where they were.

Bishop put a hand over his eyes and peered up the mountain. "There's some old ruins up there. Most likely place for their hideout," he said, nodding in that direction.

"Yeah. Let's keep looking while the others catch up to be sure," she answered.

So they searched on side by side, crouched low to the ground though the muscles in their legs and backs were screaming in protest, and after a few minutes, they simultaneously spotted a barely perceptable disturbance in the soil, which was really not much more than a toeprint and would have been invisible to anyone but a trained tracker. They dropped down and measured the depth of the print to try to determine how fresh it was and how fast their quarry was moving.

She grinned at him in relief and said with a laugh, "This wasn't made long ago. We got 'em!" She stood and stretched out her stiffness.

He stood and replied with a smirk, "Yeah, we did it! Once the others drag their sorry asses up here, we can kill some more Gith and get your farmgirl back."

She grabbed him impulsively in a celebratory hug. He chuckled and hugged her back.

He his leather armor was pungent with sweat, but his sweat smelled good...kind of acidic, but spicy too, and...feral, she thought, and it made her shiver. Some men's sweat had such an acrid, sour stench that she could hardly stand to be around them let alone get this close. She decided right then that this was how a man should smell. Even after days without more than cursory washing, his scent drew her closer, making her hold the embrace far longer than was prudent, and she fought an peculiar urge to taste his skin.

He held her thinking nearly the same thing, that even smelling of bear and sweat she still smelled good. He'd rather be with a woman who smelled of sweat and leather and the forest any day over perfumed town women. He also raised an eyebrow as he noticed that she still held him. "Well now," he thought, "this is not what I expected. Wonder how far she'll go. Only one way to find out." He quickly grabbed her hair tightly at the back of her neck and turned her to face him then kissed her boldly, twisting his body so he was out of range of her knees, and pinning her arms in case she her answer was a slug or elbow to the gut.

She gasped in shock and balled her fists, but she found herself returning the kiss, then freeing her arms and running her fingers roughly through his chestnut hair. She gasped at the burn of his beard against her cheek, and then his tongue was caressing her own roughly. Karnwyr and Cillian looked at them then each other and would have shrugged if their shoulders worked that way. They lay down to wait. Being males, they understood that finding a willing female was a rare thing that was not to be denied.

Bishop thought, "This is going better than I expected." He pulled her down into the spring grass, mussing up her braid and kissing and biting wildly along her cheek, her jaw, and her throat before plunging his tongue into her mouth again. They lay together kissing, and exploring each other as much as they could with armor and many sharp weapons in the way. He paused while nuzzling her ear and whispered, "We have just enough time before the others get here, if we're quick."

The pause was just enough to break the spell. She pushed him off and struggled to her feet as he tried to force her back down. "We don't have time for this now, Bishop. Gods, what are we thinking?" He snatched at her arm, but she shoved him down forcefully and stalked to Cillian, who eyed Bishop suspiciously and growled lowly, wondering what it was about the male that made her reject him. She shook her head to clear it.

"Hells, Bishop, what were we thinking rutting in the grass like that when Shandra's life is at stake."

He sat up and sneered, "Yeah, that's right, run away. You grab me, so I kiss you, then next thing I know, your tongue is in my mouth, you wait till you get me worked up, and then you shove me off. There's a name for wenches like you. "

"It wasn't like that, Bishop, and if you can't see that this isn't the time, then you're a fool!"

Elanee landed nearby a few minutes later, followed shortly after by Neeshka on foot, who being more worldly than Elanee took one look at Dee and Bishop, sitting with their companions in stony silence--their mussed hair, the dark welt rising on her neck--and thought, "They look like they've...Ewwww! Hells! Ewww! How could she? But then, why are they acting like they hate each other? She must have finally got tired of his mouth and smacked him one, that explains it. Hope she gave him some bruises to match that one he gave her."

They hardly exchanged a word the rest of the way to the Gith lair unless they had to, and when their eyes met, he glowered at her until she looked away. "Gods," she thought angrily, "are men really that fragile? Or is it just the ones I'm attracted to?" She also wondered if Bishop was right. It was an evil word that he called her, but was it true? Had she led him on? Had she done the same to Wyl back home? Gods, what was wrong with her? "Focus, girl," she scolded herself as the ruins came into view, "or someone's going to end up dead." She steeled herself for the fight ahead and marched on.

They had decided to make for Port Llast and catch a ship to get back to Neverwinter more quickly, yet they traveled there at a slower pace now that the urgency had passed. Shandra was alive, and that should have been cause for celebration. Dee took the lead with Cillian, her mind in turmoil over the knowledge she had gained about the shard embedded in her chest, which she absently touched, and the ominous threat of the King of Shadows. She scratched the bear's neck. How much had Daeghun known, or Duncan too, for that matter? Daeghun surely had to have known, that much was clear, but if he did, that meant that she had been lied to her whole life. She would get the truth, she thought grimly, even if she had to beat it out of him.

Neeshka, Elanee, and Casavir tried in vain to distract her with any subject they thought would catch her attention, Khelgar regaled her with stories of the Ironfist clan and showed her the fighting exercises practiced the monks, and Grobnar had tried to cheer her with silly songs, bearing with her grunts and terse answers. And their eyes inevitably traveled to her chest, as if looking for some manifestation of the shard embedded there. At least _he_ left her alone. Then again, she mused, he didn't seem like the comforting type anyway. About all he had said to her was to remind her she owed him for the loss of his favorite skinning knife every chance he got and that he expected repayment.

They tried to tell her that things weren't as bleak as they seemed. But to her it was like she had fallen down a deep well with no way to climb back out. She was beginning to fear that she had no control whatsoever over the plan of her life.

They made camp late one afternoon, and Dee assigned watches then pulled some dried meat from her pack, offering some to Cillian. Shandra walked up to her and said, "If I'm going to be traveling with you, I could use some sparring practice." Dee nodded at her as she chewed and couldn't help but smile slightly as Casavir smacked himself on the forehead for not thinking of that.

Bishop set up a few makeshift targets and grabbed his bow and said, "The farm girl might as well learn how to shoot too before we lose the light. I'd be happy to give her some personal instruction."

Dee replied evenly, "We could start with some archery practice. There are times when you need to soften them up before you finish them off. You can use my bow, Shandra."

Bishop snorted and answered, "I thought you wanted her to learn how to hit."

Dee ignored the taunt and showed Shandra the correct way to string the bow and nock an arrow then showed her the proper stance. Everyone in the party had either a bow or a crossbow because Dee had insisted that they needed at least one ranged weapon, so Casavir and Elanee joined them too with their bows and both gave Shandra additional tips.

Grobnar, with a cheery cry of "Sir Bishop, mind if I join you," bounced over next to him to try out his new crossbow, oblivious to Bishop's hostile reply, "Only if I can use you for a target."

Bishop watched the others shoot a round then loosed his own arrows, grinning as he split a few of the others' arrows. But whether Bishop's digs got to her, or because couldn't get her mind off what the Gith witch had told her, or because she really _wasn't _a very good shot, Dee just couldn't seem to hit the target.

Grobnar cocked his head and watched Dee shoot another round before she gave up in disgust, handed the bow to Shandra, and stalked off to a dead tree where she joined Neeshka throwing daggers and Khelgar throwing hand axes. Grobnar followed on her heels like a loveable but annoying puppy and watched quietly for a while before he approached Dee and pulled her aside.

"What is it, Grobby?" she asked distractedly, keeping an eye on Bishop leaning over Shandra as she lined up her shot.

"Lady Dee, if I may be so bold, I think I know what your problem..."

She cut him off with a scowl. "I don't have a problem!"

"Well yes, my lady, but nevertheless, there's an Lantana Artificer at the shrine of Gond who makes many marvelous things, but you see, he takes polished and ground circles of glass and attaches them to wire frames, rather like small magnifying glasses, but they're made to be worn and well, I think he could help you. I'd be happy to take you to meet him."

"Thanks, Grobby, but my vision is fine," she replied tersely, crossing her arms over her chest. "Besides, I've seen those things. Spectacles, aren't they called? Aren't they very expensive?" She had only ever seen people wearing them in the Blacklake district, and she wasn't sure if she trusted putting a Gondian device anywhere near her eyes.

He stared at her with a more serious expression than he usually showed the world until she blinked. "Dee, we have to confront our weaknesses or be overcome by them. Trust me."

She sighed. "Alright then, I'll go talk to the man with you when we get back to Neverwinter."

They practiced until the light faded and then Elanee cast a _Light_ spell. Dee led Shandra across the camp to a flat area with room to move so they could get in some melee practice. She looked her over as they slid the padded practice covers on their weapons. "First thing, before we get started--how's the armor fit?," she asked as she checked to see if Shandra had fastened the armor correctly. "Second thing--I hope you're not overly fond of that short sword. It's fine for close up fighting or sneak attacks, but with melee fighting you would be better off with something with more reach. Try everyone's weapons and we'll see what suits you best."

So Shandra tried her hand at a variety of different weapons and fighting styles, and Dee showed her how to defend against different weapons as well. She didn't have the coordination for the two-weapon fighting style, but that really didn't surprise Dee--few did. Shandra did have powerful arms and shoulders from years of hard work on the farm though, and she wielded a great sword with the same ease with which she had wielded a pitchfork. She wasn't bad with a warhammer either. Khelgar, then Casavir, then even Bishop wandered over to them, and they all practiced, trading partners, laughing, joking, and offering helpful critiques of each others' fighting styles. Dee took a break to quaff some water and smiled softly, realizing she had hardly thought about the shards this evening. She whispered to Cillian, "You know what, my love? I have really great friends."


	6. Repaying DebtsM for ranger on ranger

Ch 7 Repaying Debts

Dee pounded away furiously on the anvil, the piece of cold iron the innocent target of her wrath. Better working it out this way than taking it out with her fists on the first rude fool to cross her though. She had kept to herself since they returned from the Gith base and she had interrogated her uncle, which only served to make her more convinced than ever that Daeghun knew, and that Duncan probably did too.

She sighed and paused to catch her breath and admire the blade. She tried to remember how long it had been exactly and measured it against her open palm, but it seemed a good length for a skinning knife. She switched the hammer to her left hand and resumed pounding the metal. She had been at it for hours. Cold iron weapons were not formed with fire. It took a feat of strength and sheer will to force the metal into a workable shape.

One benefit to being ambidextrous was that she could switch arms like this whenever one became too tired. Daeghun had realized it when teaching her to write. She wasn't particular about which hand she used, so he encouraged her to use both equally for everything. It was an advantage in battle too. Opponents assumed that the long sword in her right hand was the main attack weapon and that the short sword in her off hand was only used to parry and were caught off guard when she reversed the attack.

She examined the blade again with a satisfied grin. At least metal was one thing she could control. Unlike her fate, unlike men--her father, her uncle, that poor, sad paladin, and a certain ranger. What was _he_ about, anyway? That first night--here was a man who wasn't too intimidated by her size and strength to look at her with such unbridled lust. He _was_ good-looking; she was drawn to his beautiful amber eyes flecked with gold and tousled chestnut hair and days' growth of stubble, looking like he'd just come back from the wild.

Her first thought was that he needed to be taught some manners, but he was a ranger, so he would 'get' her. She walked to the honing wheel and began giving the blade an edge. From the first time she'd spoken him though, he'd acted like a real horse's ass--no, that's too much of an insult to horses. So she had gone out of her way to avoid him, which wasn't easy since he was nearly always at her uncle's tavern.

Dee examined the knife again and turned it to watch its cool gleam in the light. The metal really held a good edge. She took a long quaff of water and walked back to the workbench to attach it to a handle made from a deer's antler. She sighed tiredly. "Well, it's a start. At least he can't still say I owe him that...unless it's not good enough for him. Knowing _him_, it won't be." Tomorrow she would take it to Sand to enchant it. She slid it into a leather sheath then hung up the heavy smith's apron on a hook and rolled and stretched her stiff shoulders. She sighed and considered summoning her bear, but he hated the noise of the forge.

She checked the silver warhammer she had started earlier, still cooling in its mold. That would be a job for later, after the metal had tempered. She flushed with shame as she recalled Casavir's expression after her flippant retort to his warning about Bishop: "What are you, jealous?" He denied it, of course, and dismissed it as simple concern, but she saw the hurt look that flashed in his eyes before he resumed his usual stoic mask and knew the truth, even if he didn't.

She knew that look--she had seen it before with Bevil when he tried to warn her away from Wyl Mossfield, and she suspected, for much the same reason. Why was it she wasn't attracted to good, kind, decent men? She sighed. Not to mention handsome. He was certainly that.

She had liked him from the first time she saw him after that ambush by orc filth. It was one she should have seen coming. She Khel and Neesh were fighting in the front trying to give Qara and Elanee cover, but the orc scum kept coming. It was starting to register that they might not make it, so she resolved to send as many of them to their dark gods as she could. She charged and was trying to fight three of the filth at once when there was a flash of sunlight on metal, and a huge warhammer caved in the skull of one of her orcs.

After the battle, she was sitting on her haunches wiping her swords on a dead orc when he came up before her, blocking out the sun. She looked up at him and said coolly, "You must be this _Katalmach_ I've heard so much about, and from that alone I already like you, but there's one thing we've got to get straight--don't come between me and an orc and we'll get along just fine. 'Tis a ranger thing--you wouldn't understand."

He answered with mock formality and mirth twinkling in his eyes, "Of course. Thank you for letting me take part in _your_ fight, m'lady." But since his warning about Bishop, she had tried to make it clear to Cas that she considered him a friend and nothing more.

There was a tray of food Sal had brought as a peace offering from Duncan next to the door, and she had eaten but little since they had returned, but she wasn't in the mood to do more than pick at her favorites. She didn't turn down the harvest mead Neesh had brought her though, and she quaffed a mug, then another.

One by one starting with Neeshka and ending with Khelgar, they had come to her to see if she wanted to talk, then even _he _came, but she had sent them all away with a terse "I'm workin' here," hardly even looking up from the anvil. She hated to admit it, but Bishop was right about his suspicion that her uncle had been lying to her about how much he had known. She shook her head. "I know what it is,"she muttered bitterly, "At least he's honest and open about what he feels and thinks. And wants. There's no coyness or subtlety with him. Bishop is what he is. Casavir could learn a thing or two from him about honesty."

She stalked back to her room. She really needed a bath. She linked her fingers and stretched her arms above her head then shook out her shoulders. It was worth the pain to be well on the way to having one debt repaid. She laughed bitterly and wondered what other payments fate expected of her. The map of the Sword Coast lay on the floor where she had thrown it after she tore it off the wall. She lay the knife on her table, stripped off her clothes and tossed them in the laundry basket, wrapped her towel around herself, grabbed her nightshirt and the mead and headed to the bath.

She slid into the tub, thankful that there was no one else around to share the bath with so she wouldn't be forced to make polite conversation. She had a good, long sulky soak, then dried off and put some herbal salve Elanee made on her shoulders and pulled her favorite nightshirt on. The lauderess had surprised her by not only washing and mending it, but also added some delicate embroidery in return for the five gold pieces she paid her. She pulled her hair into a loose braid, drained the rest of the mead and grabbed her things. "Drink a bit more of that and I'll have no trouble sleeping," she thought.

She spotted movement in the shadows of the hallway and paused, cursing under her breath for not bringing a weapon with her. She was about to summon Cillian when she recognized him from his stance. "Well again, ranger. Something you need? Still sulking?"

He stepped from the shadows, barefoot and wearing only a pair of lightweight trewes with a towel wrapped around his neck. The thick curly hair on his hard-muscled chest and abdomen still glistened and he was freshly shaven. Gods, why was such an ass blessed with a body like that?

He snorted. "Me? You seem to be doing a pretty good job of sulking for the both of us. Not that you don't have plenty of reasons. I was just wondering what you're going to do about my knife."

"Hells," she sighed. He really looked like a sad little boy right now, almost pouting. "Look, I told you the first six times that I'd pay you back and I will, alright? I let you have first pick of what we looted from those Gith. How much more do you want?"

He leaned against the wall and pulled out a small knife and began cleaning his nails. "What was it you said? A thousand times what it was worth? And tell me exactly how much is that when it was priceless. How do you plan to repay that? Besides, I didn't see you give that crazy kid anything."

She snorted. "No, but I would've if he had asked. He just didn't want anythin' of mine. And you know what, I believed him when he said he needed your knife if he was gonna live. There was somethin' in that kid's eyes, like he could see right through me!" She shuddered involuntarily.

He scoffed. "You're a fool then. That brat's probably laughing at both of us right now while he's using my knife to torture small animals."

She put a hand on his chest and pushed him back and continued to her room. "Hells, Bishop. I didn't want to say anything until it was done, but I made you a new knife. I know it's not the same, but I don't like debts any more than you do. I was gonna see what Sand could do with it before I gave it to you. Or would you be satisfied with one of my swords?"

He raised a skeptical eyebrow. "_You_ part with one of your precious swords? That'll be the day, but you're on. Let me see this knife first though." He grinned as she turned away followed her to her room. This was going just as he had planned.

She opened the door and stood aside to let him enter. He stepped in, brushing against her, pushing the door shut behind him. What was that scent? Some kind of oil, peppery but with too much more to tell without getting closer to the wench. He also caught a strong whiff of mead on her breath and wondered how much she'd had. Enough to losen her legs? Couldn't get those apart with a blastglobe.

He'd been watching her since she brushed him off at the forge. When he saw her head to the bath, he decided maybe it was time to wash off the trail dust too. He even shaved, though he had such a heavy beard that the stubble would be back in the morning. She was in there forever though, so he decided to wait for her in the hallway. He wanted to get in a few more digs against Duncan, and he wanted to get in a few more at her too.

"There it is." She waved her arm towards the weapon rack in the room, hoping he would take something and go as she reached for the knife from her table and unsheathed it.

He took the knife from her and ran a finger along the edge. "This what you've been working on all day?"

She shrugged. "It's cold iron. Matches your cold heart."

"Cold--why is that a surprise? Matches the coldness of your nethers better, I think." he replied with a smirk.

He examined it closely. "You really made this yourself?" He looked her in the eye and said dismissively, "I've seen better."

She snorted and lit a candle, then watched him, arms folded across her chest. He set it on the table and turned to the weapon rack, where he dropped to one knee and examined her swords.

He shook his head. So many blades. So what was the farm girl compensating for, hmm? Something she didn't have, or something she wasn't getting? He gave the wench credit for making sure everyone who traveled with them was well armed, but he would've picked a favorite sword or maybe two and sold the rest. Not this wench. She had four long swords and three short swords. He was sure all of them bore some kind of enchantment, or there would be no point in keeping them. He took his time, watching her standing there out of the corner of his eye to gauge her reaction as he examined them one by one, trying to determine which one it pained her the most to part with. That would be the one he took, if he decided he was ready to end this game.

He was good at reading wenches. The way she stood with her arms folded across her chest told him that she was nervous about being alone with him. He thought of that afternoon on the trail and the taste of her was still fresh in his mind and he wanted more. But he'd already decided that earlier while he waited to run in to her leaving the bath.

He wanted to pull her shining pale hair from its braid and bury his face in it. He might have had her already, if he hadn't been stupid enough to make a move on the other farm wench within earshot. He watched her and thought maybe she doesn't want him to leave. She didn't object when he closed the door. She was restless as she shifted from foot to foot, and her discomfort pleased him. He could wait her out, so he took his time, turning each sword over slowly in his hands several times before going on to the next. She finally sighed and lit another candle on the table and threw her towel over the chair to dry, then turned back and watched him. There was something about her and candlelight. It really suited her.

"Well?," she finally sighed in exasperation. "If you can't make up your mind, come back in the morning, Bish. I'm tired. What exactly was so special about that hunting knife, anyway? What did it do?"

He stood and turned towards her and shrugged, taking the knife up from the table again. Part of him was touched that she had gone through the effort to make it for him instead of just buying him off, but he wasn't going to let her know that. "I don't know, nothing special other than it was mine. I can't really explain it other than it was really good for skinning. Not that it matters now."

She rolled her eyes and said "Great, Sand will love that one. I can hear the sarcasm now--'Oh, I'm quite sure I have a reeaally good for skinning spell to enchant this,'" she said, mimicking the mage.

She met his eyes and pointed at the door again. "Just leave it and I'll take care of it tomorrow. Good night, Bishop." She took the knife from him, placed it on the table then turned towards her bed and snatched back the covers. "Maybe if I go to bed, he'll take the hint and leave," she thought.

He, however, saw an opportunity that he had been waiting for all evening. He lunged and caught her braid as her back was turned and pulled her close, slipping his other arm around her waist. She gasped and cursed and struggled, but he held her tight.

He leaned close and whispered in her ear, "Been meaning to tell you for a while that you really should pin up your braid. See how easy it is for an enemy to get ahold of you? Leave you helpless...you could be slammed to the ground hard and stunned, even killed. Or worse."

He smelled her hair then nuzzled her neck and felt her shiver. "Oh, so this is your idea of repayment?" she hissed.

He chuckled lowly. "No, sweetheart. Wouldn't even come close to what you owe me."

She growled a particularly vile curse.

He chuckled. "Excellent. Is that one of your Harborman expressions, or did you pick that up from one of the sailors? I bet His Holiness would faint dead away if he heard you say that, then he'd admonish you for an hour. Well done. I like it when you talk all dirty and blasphemous." He grasped her braid near the nape of her neck and forced her head around and kissed her roughly. But she broke the kiss and struggled to turn away.

"Easy enough to get out of too," she hissed, glaring at him, her blue eyes hard and dark as saphires. She stomped on his instep and followed up quickly with a elbow in the gut. He grunted and lost his grasp on her and she broke away towards the door, cursing herself for her stupidity at even letting him in.

He swore and gave chase, limping painfully on what felt like a broken foot, and caught her by her shirt and pulled her back. She spun and kicked wildly at his crotch but missed, and he answered her with a vicious backhand across her cheek that was sure to blacken her eye. She lunged at him, punching him in the mouth. He wiped blood off his lip and grinned as if he enjoyed it. She grappled him, pounding away at his ribs, then he used his body to slam her against the door and hold her as he tried to get control of her arms. She grabbed a jug off the shelf near the door and smashed it over his head. He cursed, grabbing her arms and jerking them above her head.

She headbutted him and he nearly lost his grip. Damn wench was hard to control. She matched him for height but he guessed she outweighed him too and she was almost as strong as he. Almost, but not quite, and that gave him an advantage. He held her, gazing into her eyes coldly. He didn't know whether he wanted to throttle her or kiss her; the thought either possibility was making him incredibly hard.

Then there came a firm knock at the door and the paladin's voice calling, "My lady, are you alright?"

Bishop held his breath. One word from her and that do-gooder fool would break down the door. Normally he would welcome the fight, but he was unarmed.

She looked at the door and answered after a moment, "My...bear knocked some things over. It's alright, Cas."

Bishop raised an eyebrow as the paladin answered, "Very well. Good night, M'lady."

Neither of them said anything until Casavir walked away to his room. Then Bishop looked at her and smirked. "Lying to a paladin. Which level of the hells do you go to for that one? Now why would you do that? And where were we?"

"Gods, what did I do that for?" she thought, but she felt the answer pressing against her thigh. "I just didn't want the whole tavern in my room after he killed you!," she hissed into his ear. She thought, "Gods, it's bigger than Wyl's. What am I getting myself into? I don't even like him! Just tell him to stop!"

He chuckled and leaned in, pressing against her and kissed her hungrily as she still struggled to break free. She wasn't making this easy. He fought to get control of both hands with one of his to leave the other free to explore a breast through the thin cloth. He kissed her along her neck and throat, then jerked the drawstring loose so that it gaped open. He found the breast he'd been toying with and caught the nipple in his teeth, freeing his hand to slide down her taut belly, pulling up her nightshirt until he found what he was looking for. He heard her gasp and he moaned in turn as he stroked her wetness, not as deeply as he would have liked considering how he had her pinned, but he wasn't about to free her legs yet. He needed her so badly it hurt.

She gasped and thought, "Hells, he's good! Not like Wyl, no telling him 'higher, no lower, more left,' until I finally told him to forget it." Instead he found the spot and was quickly pushing her to the edge.

This wasn't what he expected when he waited for her in the hall. Or was it? He'd wanted this wench from the first time he saw her, but how far would he go to have her? He was a evil bastard to be sure--a murderer many times over, a thief, and while he'd had plenty of rough sex, none of it could have been called rape.

He drew back and looked into her eyes. "If you don't want this, say it. Hells, just scream and his holiness will be at the door. But I'm thinkin' you want it too. I think that's why you asked me in here."

She whispered, "Yeah? Screw you."

He grinned and replied with a grunt as he picked her up and tossed her on the bed, "Yeah, sweetheart, I can do that."


	7. Strange Bedfellows This chapter is M too

Ch. 7B Strange bedfellows

Bishop figured that it was now safe enough to release her arms, and when she didn't pummel him or smash anything else over his head, he drew her into a tight embrace and kissed her deeply. Dee put her arms around his neck hesitantly at first, but then returned his kiss. She had taken the sane, logical part of herself that screamed "Run!" and locked it safely away. He was right, she had wanted this since the first time she saw him and she was right, her friends were wrong about him. He was sweaty again from the fight and the exertion of trying to control her, and he gave off that spicy scent that lured her before. She gave in to her urge and licked his neck then kissed him again. He shivered and whispered, "Now isn't this better than trying to kill each other?"

She whispered back, "Can't you do anything else with your mouth?"

He slipped his hands down to her full, round bottom and gave her a hard squeeze then lifted her up. She wrapped her legs around his hips as he carried her to her bed, where he dropped down with her. Dee touched his chest and ran her fingers through the thick fur that covered him there. He wasted no time in stripping off her nightshirt and the silver symbol of Milekki she wore on a cord around her neck. She snatched the symbol from him and hung it on the bedpost. He grabbed her and pushed her back on the bed and smothered her with kisses until she returned them as ardently as he gave them. He loosened the drawstring and pushed his trewes out of his way. Now that he had her subdued, like a hungry beast tearing into its prey he thrust into her fully then continued relentlessly with no tenderness in the act, nor was he disuaded by her gasp of pain.

After an almost embarassingly brief time for him but what seemed like an eternity for her, and just when she was beginning to feel some pleasure, he cursed and shuddered and collapsed on top of her. They lay there for a few minutes catching their breath, neither of them moving, then he rolled off and lay beside her in silence. Often this would be his cue to fasten his trewes and leave. It had been a long time since he'd been with anyone that he wanted again once it was finished, and as he caught his breath, he was already stirring with desire for her again. He turned on his side and regarded her staring glassy-eyed at the ceiling, reaching out to toy with her braid as he worked the tresses free and combed them out with his fingers.

She lay there thinking, "That's it? That's what everyone gets so worked up about?"

He leaned over her and nuzzled her neck before he buried his face in her hair said, "Not bad. Not bad at all."

She was silent for a moment before she rolled over on her side away from him with her knees drawn up and her arms folded across her chest as his words sunk in. She thought incredulously, "Not bad? Not bad? That's it?" She replied dismissively, "Yeah? I've had better."

He snorted at the obvious lie, but even he had to admit he had been brutal. He put an arm around her waist and pulled her to him. "Yeah? I'm _sure_ you have. You should have told me, and now you know what happens when you get a man so worked up you push him over the edge, sweetheart. Besides, it's early and we're just getting started."

And now that his beast's hunger was sated, he could afford the time for tenderness. He leaned over her, held her face in his hands gazing at her before he kissed her softly on her forehead, then slowly on each eyelid, then on her cheeks, then tenderly on the mouth over and over until she responded to his kisses again. He worked his way down her neck and throat before returning to her mouth. He drew back to look at her and asked, "Better?"

She nodded, so he continued his way down her long, shapely body. He hadn't really looked at her before. He had seen her, but that memory had been lost in the initial passion. His first impression was that of a bear. No wonder one had chosen her as a companion. She was powerful, with muscular legs and arms and shoulders, but she had enough weight on her that there was no doubt she was a woman. Bishop had been with a few warrior women before who had been so lean and muscular that he had an uncomfortable sensation of being with another man and almost couldn't finish.

He cupped her full round breasts and ran his thumbs over her large pink nipples before exploring one, then the other with kisses and licks and soft bites until he learned what drove her wild. He traced the scar between her breasts with his tongue then continued down past her ribs down her taut belly then down her long legs down to her feet, paying particular attention to places he had found on other women that were especially sensitive.

He took his time making his way back up her legs, nipping hard enough to leave a few marks on her inner thighs before he touched her with the lightest flick of his tongue then paused, looking up at her with a evil grin and asked, "Should I go on?" She murmured, "Gods, Bishop! You're evil!" and grabbed his hair. He chuckled and attacked with his mouth and tongue and fingers until she cried out his name, one hand clutching the sheet in spasms while the other twisted in his hair. Then he pushed off his trewes and took her again, but this time she matched his thrusts and his passion.

Afterwards they lay together entwined kissing lightly, drowsy but content. He lay there thinking "I really should go," but he was very comfortable lying there. "I'll go in a few more minutes," he told himself before he made a pillow of her breasts and drifted off to sleep. Dee heard his breathing relax and then a soft snore. She kissed the top of his head and joined him in a more restful sleep than she had had in weeks.

Some time before Lathander's first light chased the darkness from the sky he awoke and sat up on the side of the bed. She stirred as he moved and feeling guilty, he leaned over and kissed her before whispering, "I should get out of here. You know your uncle doesn't like me much, and I don't want to cause trouble if he sees me leaving your room. Besides, you know how your friends like to gossip." It was such a convincing lie, he believed it himself. He looked around until he found his trewes on the floor and slipped them on.

She sat up and watched him and replied, "You're probably right."

He stood and grabbed his towel from the floor. To anyone who met him in the hall, he would look like he was on his way to the bath. She stretched and stood and walked leisurely over to him. He watched her approach him in the dying candlelight and felt himself grow hard again.

"What are you looking at?" she asked as she put her arms around him and kissed him softly.

He kissed her back and chuckled, "I'm looking at you. I can't get over how much you remind me of a bear." He wasn't sure how she would take that, and he braced himself in case she felt insulted and smacked him.

She beamed and gave him another kiss. "Thanks. It would almost be worth studyin' druidism just to be able to take the form of a bear."

He nipped at her bottom lip and murmured, "You would make a good bear."

She raised an eyebrow and pressed back against the bulge pressing against her hip.

"It's all your doing, sweetheart. But I suppose I don't have to leave just yet." He took her hand and led her back to the bed.

By the time they finished, the candles had burned out and dawn's light filled the room with a harsh red glow. He sat up and said, "Now I really should get going." He took her chin in his hand and kissed her then ran his thumb lightly over the angry bruise under her eye. "You have any healing potions left?"

She leaned over him and dug through her pack on the floor next to the bed, and he gave her exposed backside a squeeze. "I have one left. Want to share it?" She sipped half of the potion and handed the rest to him as she felt its warmth spread through her. "Don't think it's going to do much for either of us though."

He took the potion and considered it, then handed it back. "You look a lot worse than I do."

"Yeah? You haven't seen yourself then," she said with a chuckle.

"Yeah? That bad? I think you bruised a few ribs and broke my foot too."

She kissed his ribs and said, "Good. Now you know I'm not defenseless."

He lay back, hoping she would kiss him lower. "Ah, but his holiness will want to kill me if he catches sight of you, and I'd have to kill him instead. They don't understand how things get heated. You know paladins do it through a hole in a sheet."

She smacked him lightly and gasped, "You're lying! They do not. Do they?"

He nodded sagely. "They do, and even then it's only after an hour of prayer and only for procreation."

She gave him a look like she didn't quite believe him.

He chuckled and stood to leave again and was halfway disappointed that she didn't stop him this time. He paused at the door and turned to look at her lying on the bed watching him dress. "See you tonight?"

"I'm supposed to go out with Neeshka and Shandra out to the Mask, but I'll tell them I have a headache."

He grinned and said, "I'll meet you here then?" He hesitated a moment longer. "Oh, and Dee? You know about wild carrot and hensbane? There's lots growing down by the marsh. Don't know if your father taught you about those, but just make a fistful of both into a tea so we won't have to worry about any complications."

She lay back with her arms behind her head and answered lightly, "My foster father gave me _that_ lecture right after he found out I had my first monthly. But don't worry, contraceptive potions are one of Sand's best sellers."

He considered that. "Yeah, I can see that down here he'd do a brisk business. So you'll get some today? Your life is complicated enough right now without having to worry about making another one."

She sighed and answered, "Yes, I know, I'll go first thing. Sand hardly sleeps anyway, so he's probably already up." He watched as she stood and pulled on a long tunic and her boots.

"Oh, and the knife?" He nodded at the knife on the table and shrugged. "As long as you're going over there. I guess the one thing I can think of about it was that it never seemed to need sharpening, and it sliced through the thickest hide. Don't want you to have to deal with Elven sarcasm before breakfast."

He grinned and opened the door slowly and peered out to see if anyone else was about, then seeing no one, slipped outside. He could still smell her all over himself, and just thinking about her smell and her taste almost made him turn back. But then he thought better of it and went to his room for a tunic then summoned Karnwyr and strutted with him to the common room. Karnwyr looked at him inquiringly as he trotted along beside him. "The pack leader chose you," more of a statement of fact than a question. Bishop just grinned at what that implied to the wolf and scratched him behind the ears.

Too bad none of the others would smell the sex on him. The men might detect something, but most city dwellers were too out of touch with their senses to tell what it was. He came around the corner and nearly collided with the druidess. "Watch out!," he shouted irritatedly, taking her by the shoulders and pulling her aside. He stood there for a moment until he saw her nostrils flare as her eyes widened. He gave her a knowing wink and walked off.

Elanee watched him, a look of disgust spreading over her features. "She didn't!," she whispered to Naloth. "She did! Why, with every other male in this city, would she settle for him?" She shook her head and looked for Neeshka to share her "concern" over their friend and her terrible taste in men.

Dee finger-combed her hair and pulled it into a quick braid as she gave him time to get down the hall then followed, going out the back way to Sand's shop. As she expected, Sand was already up at work on a foul-smelling potion. He did a double take as she approached the bench and gasped, "Sweet Mystra. Little girl, what have you been up to, hmmm? Taking on the remnants of Moire's gang alone? Fighting more Githyanki?"

She handed him the knife, ignoring his inquiring gaze. "I need this enchanted. Can you enhance the sharpness? Then I could use a healing potion too."

"Yes, I can see that. But from the look of you whenever you return from one of your excursions, what you really need is a _Ring of Regeneration." _ He examined the knife and said, "I can add a minor enchantment with the gems and reagents you have on hand for fifty gold." He turned and took a healing potion on the shelf but looked at her and switched it for another.

She took the potion and handed him over a pouch of coins and quaffed it down. She closed her eyes and could feel the bruise on on her cheekbone fade as she stood there. "Thanks, Sand. I really appreciate it." She stood there hesitantly, looking down at the floor.

"Is there anything else, my dear? If not, I to get back to work."

Her eyes shot to the shelf that held the potion she needed, which told him everything.

He gave her a concerned look and said, "Little girl, please tell me it was consentual? If not, tell me who he is, and I'll turn him into a slug then pour salt on him." He took the bottle and handed it to her. "No charge for this one."

She took it and quaffed it down, grimacing at the taste. "It's really bitter. I don't have to drink that every time, do I?"

"No," he replied with a smirk. "One a tenday should be sufficient."

"Thanks again, Sand. I'll let you get back to your work."

She left the shop and summoned Cillian and went back to the tavern, using the back door again so she could avoid her friends, Duncan, and the breakfast rush. Little did she know that she was already the topic of conversation.

Bishop saw Duncan serving Casavir and couldn't resist the opportunity. He glanced around as if looking for her and asked, "Is our fair leader still sulking, or is she sleeping off that bottle of mead?"

Duncan wrung his hands and answered sadly, "She'll come around. She can't stay mad forever. Can she?"

Bishop put an arm around his shoulder and replied, "Well I don't know. It's pretty clear to me you knew more than you're letting on. How long would you stay mad if you'd been lied to like that, hmm?"

Casavir wrinkled his nose in distaste as Bishop leaned close and said coldly, "She probably had a late night. Her bear seemed to be agitated. I heard it thrashing around in her room." He couldn't stand the ranger, and he hated every moment he had to spend in polite conversation with him.

Bishop raised an eyebrow and replied as he walked off in a tone that implied much, "Her bear wasn't around at all last night."

Meanwhile, Elanee, Neeshka, and Shandra were whispering together in the storeroom. Neeshka squeeled, "Are you sure? I mean, I knew she had some insane attraction to him, but... ewwwww!"

"I'm positive," Elanee answered. "The scent was unmistakable. Poor Dee."

Shandra shook her head. "I don't understand. She could have gone for Casavir, and she chooses that filthy-mouthed creep. This can't end well."

Qara spotted them and joined them even though no one had invited her along. "What's going on?"

The others quickly filled her in, each adding their own theory. Qara frowned in disbelief. "Bishop? Why would he chose _her_ when I'm so much prettier and so much more powerful? It's not fair!"

Qara stormed off leaving the others staring after her open-mouthed and diverting the topic of their converstion from Dee temporarily. But just for a few minutes, and then they inclined their heads together and whispered conspiratorially.

"Poor Dee. What can we do?," Neeshka sighed.

"Not much right now," Shandra replied, "but she'll need her friends when she comes to her senses, and if she doesn't, she'll need us even more."


	8. Discoveries

Ch 8

He was waiting for Dee when she finished her latest 'special' Watch assignment, naked and sprawled languidly on her bed drinking a mug of ale. He had lit several candles around her room and had a bottle of mead waiting for her. She pulled off her gloves and set a new personal speed record for removing her armor and weapons before she snatched up the mead and took a long quaff. She shed her boots then removed her clothes slowly as he watched until all that remained was her small clothes. She took a swaying step towards him as she untied one of the ties on her camisole, then another, teasingly, then another, and she smiled at his approval. She took another drink and asked coolly, "Something you need, ranger? You appear to have some...swelling. Looks painful." She swayed over to the bed and straddled him.

He unbraided her hair as she kissed him. "Yeah, I think I need your special healing touch. But one of us is overdressed, sweetheart."

"Your hands broken, ranger?" she asked saucily as she leaned forward and kissed him again, spilling her mead on his chest. "Oh, how clumsy of me," she gasped in mock alarm. "I got that all over you. I'll clean it up." She flicked her tongue across her lips and he moaned and lay back on the bed.

They had been on like this since that first night. The day after she had moved about in a cloud. She mixed up customers' orders until her uncle sent her off in exasperation. She gave up work on the war hammer she had been making for Casavir because she just couldn't concentrate on the task and it seemed shameful not to devote her full attention to the beautiful gleaming silver. Dee cut her daily training session with Shandra short after Shandra managed to get around her defenses twice, muttering under her breath, "It's a good thing it's just practice and I'm not fighting orc filth." She signaled a stop. "That's enough for now. You need a fresh opponent." She looked around and waved Grobnar over, ignoring Shandra's eye roll and plaintive whine, "Deeee, no."

"Grobby, get Khel and...umm train her to defend against short opponents and multiple attackers."

Their eyes met when her path crossed with his that day inside the tavern or outside of it, and she learned what a "knowing look" was. Even Karnwyr and Cillian seemed to give her knowing looks, and she swore Elanee's badger winked at her. Of course Cillian was the only one of the three with a mental link that came from their bond. She was glad she wasn't a druid or they'd all want to talk.

Cillian looked up at her as he devoured a fish she bought him at the dock and stated prosaically, "Wolf man is your mate now. "

She shrugged and dropped to her haunches beside him and met his warm brown eyes. "Yeah, he is." She sensed something...agitation? "That's not a problem, is it?"

Cillian ripped off the fat-rich skin and devoured it before answering with just a bit of menace, "He growls at wolf a lot. Growls at you too. I don't like that. He better not growl at me."

She nodded. "I'll talk to him. Just don't tear his arms off, alright?"

Cillian snorted in reply. She watched him in quiet fascination as he tore apart the fish with his razor-sharp claws. He looked up from his feast finally and asked softly, "You won't forget me?"

She leaned over him and gave him a hug then scratched him behind the ears. "How could I forget you, love?" It had never occurred to her that their companions could get jealous, and she wondered if Karnwyr was jealous of her. "You talk to his wolf much? How does he feel about us?"

Cillian tore into another fish before he answered, "His human is the mate of the pack leader. He thinks that makes his human leader of the males. He's a happy wolf."

She chuckled. "I see. Anything else?"

He took a moment before answering, "Wolf doesn't get to sleep on the bed if I don't get to."

She chuckled. "I'll tell Karnwyr he has to sleep on the rug too."

After an endless day evening finally came. Dee picked at her supper at the common table she shared with her friends. Elanee had greatly improved Duncan's cooking skills, showing him that there was more to seasoning food than tossing in copious amounts of salt, that vegetables didn't have to be boiled or stewed until they were a grey mush, and that everything wasn't better fried. It was an understatement to say that Dee had a healthy appetite, but that night she couldn't even focus on food. She gazed at Bishop sitting across from them, who met her gaze, smiled, stood, and glanced towards her room. He stretched slowly and headed to the hallway. She watched him stretch his lean, wiry body and realized what she was really hungry for, so she pushed aside her plate and followed. She didn't even bother with the weak excuse she had prepared for Neehska. The others stared at her back as she disappeared through the door. "Well that was subtle," Neeshka groused to Shandra. "I thought we were supposed to go out tonight. I guess Elanee was right about them."

"I know, I couldn't believe it either!," Shandra whispered as she leaned closer to Neeshka. "I don't get it! Sure, he's not bad looking I guess if you like that type, he has a great body, but it's attached to that filthy tongue. And he's just so full of himself! I can't believe Qara's sulking about it, either. I could see _her_ going for him, but Dee seems so level-headed. He must be hung like a mule."

Neeshka whispered back, "Yeah, or maybe he's really good with his filthy tongue." They giggled then Neeshka suddenly shot up, gasped and said, "Or maybe he's charmed her! There are spells, you know. Or maybe he's not just a ranger--maybe he's secretly a warlock and he's beguiled her. That would explain everything."

Shandra shook her head and gave Neeshka a skeptical look. "I could believe that he's an assassin, but not a warlock. That seems rather far-fetched, Neeshka."

Neeshka considered the possibilities. "It's more likely she picked up a ring or something that's cursed. We should ask Elanee or Sand if their spells can detect anything!"

Dee had removed her bodice as she and Cillian strode down the hall and was already unlacing her tunic when she caught up to him leaning against her door. They stood there gazing at each other until he broke the silence. "You got the potion from the mage?" She nodded, then he grabbed her and kissed her furiously then pulled back and asked, "And you took it?"

She scowled and said, "Don't worry. A kid is the last thing I need now."

He pulled off his shirt, and he kissed and nipped at the back of her neck as she fumbled to open door. They stumbled into the room and nearly fell, tripping over each other and their companions as the door flew open. She managed to kick off her boots and her leggings still hung off one foot before he ripped off her tunic, picked her up and slammed her against the door, and took her before she even caught her breath.

In the days that followed he slipped into her room in the evening, or when he was out, awakened her in the middle of the night. One night she awakened to find that he had already started. But he almost always left before dawn. They became one of the obnoxious couples who snuck into the private bath at night. Then a few mornings later he pulled her aside into the storeroom and shut the door.

"Bish, what if Uncle Duncan or Sal walks in on us?," she whispered as he nuzzled her neck.

"They won't if we're quick. Besides, that's the excitement, sweetheart," he whispered back as he stroked her hair then pushed her to her knees.

Dee made another discovery about herself--she really liked _it_. She was an enthusiastic student eager to learn, and he had a great deal of experience to share. He wasted no time in teaching her how to please him, and most of the time he left her beathless, quivering and tingling from head to toe. There was rarely the same tenderness that he showed her that first night, though she left him as many bites and scratches as he marked her with, which she hid but he flaunted in the men's bath. _It_ was even more distracting than working at the forge. When she was with him and lost in passion, she forgot about Black Garius and the King of Shadows and the shards, at least for a few golden minutes.

There were only a few blights on her happiness. The first was the reaction of her friends. No one had said anything yet, but she had that uncomfortable feeling from the sudden silence when she entered the common room or the practice circle in the empty lot next to the tavern that they had been talking about her. A few times she caught them looking at her with something akin to pity, especially Khelgar, and Casavir gave her a disappointed look that made her feel dirty. Sand and Elanee took her aside and asked if they could scry everything she had aquired at the Gith lair to make sure none of it was cursed. Qara was even more bitchy and hostile than usual, not that Dee was bothered at all. As far as Dee was concerned, the only reason Qara stayed around was that she was using them as fodder to protect her from the army of former classmates that wanted to leave her a charred cinder on the cobblestones.

Neeshka, being Neeshka and having all the patience of a three-year-old and about as much tact as well, ambushed Dee one day as she and Shandra headed out to the Watch office. "Dee, let's stop and get a a snack and a drink at the Mask."

"I suppose we have time for one," Dee replied, not being one to turn down a cup of mead.

"So?" she asked as they hustled Dee inside the door found a table.

"So what?" Dee asked as she looked down at the tiefling. She was quiet as the server brought their regular order and a platter of fried fish and she handed over a few coins. "If you're still on about that whole 'Collector' job, I haven't changed my mind. I'm sorry if you're still mad at me."

"I am a little," Neeshka admitted. "It's just such an easy job, Dee, and I can retire as the greatest thief in the city!" Her eyes glistened at the thought.

"Yeah, you're really going to retire? I'd hold you to that. There's also his private guards and servants guarding his museum. Have you given one minute's thought to that? How would it even be possible without taking the chance of murdering a bystander?" Dee sighed deeply and stopped, putting a hand on her arm. "Please, I don't want to fight with you, Neesh. You're my friend. I don't mind looting ruins, but I just can't see how I could steal from someone, even if he is so rich he won't miss it, and no matter how greedy and despicable a person you say he is."

"Not to mention that stealing is wrong," Shandra added, looking shocked that Dee had even given it that much thought.

Neeshka stuck out her tongue at Shandra, who kicked her under the table to remind her of why they were there. Neeshka pouted and said, "Oh yeah. That's not what we wanted to talk about anyway."

"No? What is it then?," Dee asked, suspecting what they wanted to ask.

Neeshka, also having the personal boundaries of a three-year old, cooed insinuatingly, "So how was it? It must have been _realllly_ good because you keep going back for more. From the look of your neck, he's a biter, and Shandra saw a few interesting bruises on your thigh too. Oh, and she figures he must be hung like a mule."

Shandra choked on her cider. "I thought you were going to work up to that, Neeshka."

Dee flushed and muttered, "I knew should've taken a healing potion before I set out." She grinned at Neeshka, who was leaning in expectantly as she sipped her Berdusk dark wine. "Allright. Yeah, he's as good as he thinks he is. I guess. I don't really have much to compare him to, do I?" She quaffed her mead and waited for the interrogation to continue.

"Toe-curling good?," Neeshka squealed. "We want details!"

"Neeshka!" Shandra hissed.

"Well we do! You do as much as I do, Shandra, and so do Elanee and Sand, but they wouldn't come with us. So...size, shape, special tricks?"

By now Ophala and a few of her workers had overheard Neeshka and moved in close enough to listen too. Dee quaffed her mead deeply, keeping them in suspense before she answered, "Well, I 'spose I know what the expression 'screwed senseless' means now. Is that better than toe-curling good?"

Neeshka giggled and nodded and Shandra gasped, so she went on. "Seriously, I think I've almost fainted a couple of times. Size...let's see." She put one fist on top of the other. "A bit longer than that, but bigger around than Wyl. I knew they could be longer, but no one told me they could be thicker too."

Neeshka set down her glass and regarded Dee suspiciously. "You told me you never..."

Dee laughed loudly. "I didn't lie. You only asked if I kissed the one-eyed monster. You never asked if I touched...or choked it, as the case may be. And...that's all I'm going to say on the matter."

She took another drink then turned to them. "Now then it's your turn...You and Leldon? Hells, Neesh, what were you thinking! I don't see how you can say anything about Bish. He's balding, and what, at least 40? He must've been really good. Or is he hung like a mule, hmm? Do tell."

Shandra laughed and Neeshka stuck out her tongue again. Dee grabbed at it and nearly caught it. Neeshka laughed and replied, "Yeah, well I was young, fresh out of the orphanage, and he can be charming. And he wasn't balding then. Besides, he was one of the top thieves in the city. And he has a really great body and yeah, he does bear a resemblance to a mule in more than looks."

They laughed and finished their drinks. Dee wasn't done with them yet though. "So Shandra...your turn. Anyone special back in High Cliff? Anyone you're pining for now? Come on, come on, we want details. Now, missy!" Shandra flushed deeply as Dee leaned closer and said, "Come now, it's only fair."

Shandra gave an exasperated sigh. "You're right, it's only fair. Fine. There were a few--Branson, the merchant in High Cliff and Eduardo the armorer are the only ones you might know. They just wasn't my type though."

"So what's your type?," Dee asked as she leaned closer. "I suspect you have a secret yearning for Grobby."

Neeshka almost fell out of her chair she was laughing so hard. Shandra grew quiet though and searched their faces before for a few minutes before she replied, "Well, there's this farmer in Ember I see when I make a run through there to market every year. Of course I had nothing to take _this_ year." She shot an accusing look at Dee. "She invites me to stay with her while I'm in town. But...I don't think she's interested in me that way, or at least she didn't seem to want to be anything more than a friend."

Dee reflected for just a second how that explained why Shandra was looking at her thighs in the bath. But for just a second, then she shrugged at Neeshka, who just shrugged back and said, "So much for trying to fix her up with Cas."

Shandra gasped and replied with a shudder, "Casavir? Gods, why would you do that?" She paused before she smiled at Dee and said, "And don't worry, neither of you is my type either. I wouldn't mind getting to know your Watch captain better though." She squeezed Dee's hand and said, "I'm happy that you're happy, for what it's worth. And who knows, maybe you can improve his attitude."

Dee sighed. "It means a lot to hear that. And I am working on him, alright?. You'll see."

Duncan tried to take her aside to talk to her when she returned to the tavern. "Lass, I don't mean to get into your business, but it's clear there's something going on between you and Bishop, and there are things you should know about him."

But Dee would have none of it. "Whatever happened between the two of you or whatever he owes you is in the past, and it's no concern of mine anyway," she told him tersely, signaling an end to the discussion.

He grumbled at her back as she stomped off, "First you don't speak to me for three days for not tellin' you your father's secrets, and now you're mad because you don't want to hear what I know about your lover. Fine, don't say I didn't try to warn you then!"

She decided not to tell Bishop about Duncan's warning because the second blight on her happiness was her growing awareness that there was validity to her friends' concern. He wasn't the same person here he had been out in the wild, and she realized he was trying to change her as much as she tried to change him. He liked her to wear her paint thick and her hair down. He went shopping with her and suggested skin-tight leggings and bodices cut so low that she was afraid she would fall out if she breathed too hard. She was a ranger raised by an elven ranger, so nudity was second nature to her. But the way Bishop wanted her to dress made her feel naked.

She was beginning to see that there wasn't much between them but the sex either. Afterwards they lay together in quiet exhaustion, but eventually silence was broken by her attempts to draw him out or to learn something about him. But he had such a bleak attitude about anyone or anything he perceived as weak that she found herself fighting to stay strong in the face of his relentless negativity.

One evening they were getting dressed to go out, and she took her holy symbol of Mielikki off the bedpost and kissed it before she put it back over her neck. Bishop watched her and said with a sneer, "You don't actually believe that crap, do you? Don't you stop believing that by the time you're six?"

Dee answered with certainty, "The Lady of the Forest? The Supreme Ranger? Of course I do." She got a sudden sick feeling, but she steeled herself to ask, "I know you don't worship Mielikki, but who do you worship then? Malar? It fits with your 'we're all predator or prey' view of the world."

He looked at her with disgust. "Malar? Don't be a fool, woman. I see the truth--all this garbage about gods is just to keep the weak sheep in line. There are no gods."

She was horrified and her face showed it. She had heard of 'the faithless' before, those who denied the existance of the gods, but she had never met anyone who expressed such open contempt for them. "Bish, you know what happens to the faithless, how they get put into Kelemvor's wall until they're absorbed into nothingness. I'd rather that you were a follower of Malar, or Shar, or Talos, hells, anyone...What's going to happen when you die?"

He turned to her as he stood to leave. "It's hard to respect you when you say stupid things like that, sweetheart."

"I'm stupid? I'm not the one who's going into the Wall until his soul rots."

He had his faults, but she kept telling herself he clearly had been mistreated as a child; she knew that much from his angrily changing the subject when she brought it up. She was alarmed to see that he had some terrible burn scars on his back, but he had bristled and shoved her away when she tried to ask about them. But she still felt that with patience she could help him heal. The problem was that patience wasn't her strong suit. They got where they didn't talk much. Talk led to disagreements, and inevitably, arguements, which often led to angry, rough sex, but sometimes to her shouting at him to leave and his grabbing his clothes and saying, "I was about to go anyway."

There was no telling what might set him off, either. Sometimes it was something as simple as wearing her hair braided when he had told her to wear it down. Then he struck her across the cheek after she said something so trivial she had trouble remembering what it was about afterwards. She blinked at him and stepped back, but after the initial shock passed, she lunged at him with fists flying. He blocked the first but not the second, which connected solidly with his jaw. She threw him out, but later that night he slipped into her room and managed to convince her that the whole thing had been her fault.

She suggested after a tenday and a half had passed that he move into her room. "You're here nearly every night anyway. There's plenty of room, and the boys get along well." She smiled at Karnwyr and gave him a pat.

He scowled and grabbed his clothes. What was it about wenches that they always needed to put chains on men? "Not going to happen. I need my freedom, sweetheart. Come on, Karnwyr." He wondered as he stood and turned his back on her and dressed how long it would be before she started hating him like all the others.

She watched him pull on his trewes and sighed. "Bish, don't leave like this. What's wrong? What did I say?" Then she realized what the problem was. It was being trapped in this city. She needed to get him back out into the wild. "Bish, let's get out of here. Let's go hunting in the morning."

He turned to look at her, relief evident on his face. "Hunting? Yeah, good idea, sweetheart. I need to get out of this stinking city. Let's find some hidden trail in the morning." He looked at her for a moment then undressed and came back to bed.

"Let's make our own trail," Dee said as she put her arm around him and drew him to her.

They planned to leave at dawn, but they were up half the night making up, so the sun had been up for over an hour when they awoke. They grabbed their bows and packs and a bottle of mead from the bar. Shandra was the first to spot them. "Where are we going? You didn't say a word about going anywhere last night, and you look like you're ready to leave!"

Dee announced as the others gathered around, "Everyone, we're going hunting. We'll be back in a few days. Don't worry Shandra, Uncle Duncan and the others will take care of you."

Elanee, always eager to leave the city, poked her head out of the kitchen and asked, "Hunting? You weren't going without us?"

Grobnar bounced on his toes and said, "Oh splendid! A hunting party! I feel the inspiration for a song coming on. The wily hunter stalks his prey. But what kind of prey is it? Hmm, deer is easy to rhyme..."

Dee sighed and was about to relent when Bishop growled, "You're only coming if I don't find game and need a target, you miserable half-man."

Dee put a hand on Bishop's arm, which he shrugged off with a snarl. She said, "Grobby, it's just us two going, alright?"

Grobnar looked crestfallen. "But I don't understand. "Why would you want to go without us?"

Casavir answered scornfully, "They're not actually going hunting, Grobnar. They're going out where they have more privacy to continue their tryst."

Dee gasped as if he had struck her. "That's not fair, Cas. You make it sound so...tawdry. It's not a tryst. It's not! You're just jealous and you don't even know it! You could learn a lot about honesty from Bishop!" She stormed out the door followed by Cillian, fists clenched and fighting back tears.

Bishop frowned as he watched her leave. That damned paladin had far too much influence over her, and he had to end that. He strolled close to Casavir and murmured "Tryst? Yeah, you could say that. And you know what else? I broke her, paladin, and I broke her good. There's no way you can fix her, and no way she'd ever settle for whatever lukewarm passion _you_ have to offer her now that she's been with a real man."

Casavir shoved him away hard and fought to control the urge to strike him. "It's just a matter of time before she sees you as the dangerous and manipulative creature you are."

Bishop chuckled darkly and said, "She sees what she wants to see, fool, but before long, she'll only see what I tell her she sees."

Dee insisted that they hire a pack mule from a nearby stable to haul back their kill, and she was determined to come back with it loaded with game. They hiked to the first wild place they could outside of the city into the Neverwinter woods, climbing up a steep trail where they were less likely to encounter others. Their mood lightened more with every step they that took them away from the city, and after a while they resumed their friendly, casual banter. Dee watched him as he walked ahead of her and mused, "Out here I can get him to talk about what's troubling him." By mid afternoon they came upon a place to make camp where there was a wide stream that fed into a deep, cool pond. They spotted many elk and deer tracks in the area as well as those of smaller game, and there were plenty of fish for Cillian to catch and fresh grass for the mule. It was a fine late spring day with the promise of summer's heat, and after the long hike the sparkling water was inviting.

Dee got to work first though tethering the mule where he could graze then setting up their bedrolls. Bishop went off to set some snares for game and for anyone who might get too close to their camp. She grimaced at the smell of Bishop's bedroll and washed it in the stream while it was still hot enough for it to dry. She built a fire ring while Cillian wasted no time in catching his fill of fish, and then he swatted a few out of the water to Dee. She found some wild asparagus and some edible tubers growing in the stream which she wrapped in leaves and set near the edge of the fire to steam. Once her work was done she stripped off everything but a dagger she strapped around her thigh and joined her bear in the pond.

When Bishop returned, she was sitting cross-legged on a boulder in the water, her hair streaming down around her shoulders and gleaming in the sun. She was cleaning a trout and tossing the offal to Cillian and laughing at him as he splashed about in the water. She had a loud, boisterous laugh that seemed to fill her whole body. He watched her for a while hidden in the brush as she left the water with the fish which she threaded onto peeled sticks and propped up over the fire to smoke slowly. Then she dove back into the water. She surfaced a minute later, spotted him, and beamed at him in a way she had never had before. She was so damned cute. He felt a tightness in his chest. Too damned cute, and that filled him with a nameless fear.

If only they could stay out here like this away from her fool friends and her loudmouth uncle. It shouldn't be too hard to convince her to leave. He'd seen the map still discarded on the floor in her room, so he knew she wanted to see more of the world. If it wasn't for those damned shards. The obvious solution to that problem would be to steal them from her, but that was complicated since one of them was lodged in her chest and couldn't be removed without killing her. He also saw that it would call the others back to itself. It was odd that she couldn't see what was so clear to him--the reason trouble seemed to follow her was that the shards were leading her to the others so they could be made whole again. The shards were like a silver chain binding her to the city and to her companions, and binding him too.

She swam over to him. "A copper for your thoughts," she said, smiling at him as she treaded water.

"How is it?" he asked as he watched her. "Looks cold."

She splashed him and replied, "Only one way to find out," and chuckled as she turned and swam off.

He laughed and said "Oh you're going to pay for that, wench," as he stripped down and dove in. He immediately surfaced. "Augh! That's cold. I'm gonna freeze my balls off!" He laughed and dove under the surface again.

She dove under the water as he neared her. He grabbed her and they gazed at one another until the need for air forced them to the surface. He pushed her hair back and gazed into her eyes again as if searching for something there, then he slipped his hand around the back of her neck and pulled her into a gentle kiss.

He looked over at the camp and said, "You're going to burn our supper, woman." He led her to the edge of the pond, swept her up into his arms, and carried over to the camp. They lay next to each other on the bedroll while they ate, feeding each other bites of food and sharing soft kisses and gentle caresses. Then he showed her what it meant to make love.

For the next three days they played in the water, and they chased each other through the forest until one caught the other. They feasted on what the land had to offer. They smoked a good supply of fish to take back though neither of them was sure when that would be. They talked, but still mostly about her home and life in a swamp village. She had learned by now which subjects to avoid with him.

They lazed about in the sun renewing their tans that had faded over the winter. But all good things must come to an end, and they both began to grow restless, Dee especially, who was not used to so much inactivity. Bishop went off with Karnwyr for hours in search of game. Dee scraped all the hides from the game they had caught and looked around for something else to do. But she couldn't get her mind off her responsibilities. She fretted about who was training Shandra while she was gone, and she had a nagging fear that Aldanon had discovered something while she was away. She missed the forge where Khelgar was teaching her the secrets of mithril. She missed her friends more than she was willing to admit to him.

She was up early gathering wild strawberries for breakfast when she spotted elk tracks again. She ran back to camp and pulled on her clothes and her leathers and grabbed her bow and quiver.

"What's going on?," he asked as he stirred, grabbing his own bow and alert for trouble.

She answered excitedly, "Elk, not far away, and it's a big one judging from the tracks."

He pulled on his boots and his leathers, grabbed his bow and followed her back to where she found the tracks. They stalked it for over a mile until he spotted a five-point buck through the thick timber. He nudged Dee, who peered where he pointed and gave him a puzzled look. But the animals were sniffing the air, having caught its scent.

She peered again and whispered, "Cil and Karnwyr can go around either side of it and flush it this way."

He hissed contemptuously, "Why? It's an easy shot."

He nocked an arrow and sighted until he found the the kill spot. He loosed his arrow, which plunged into its heart, then followed up quickly with two more to make sure it was down. She watched him in amazement. He was fast, probably as fast as Daeghun. He scowled as she offered a prayer of thanks to Mielikki for the gift of the elk, but she ignored him. They ran over to it through the brush and knelt down to admire the buck before they set about dressing it. "He's a beauty, Bish. I'll see if Uncle Duncan will let me put his head on the wall in the tavern." She put her hand on its head as she had been taught by Daeghun and said, "Thank you, brother elk, for your gift of your life." Bishop rolled his eyes, but he held his tongue for once to preserve the peace between them. She smiled when he used the knife she had made for him. Sand's enchantment made the knife slice through the thick hide like it was paper.

They worked silently until she felt his eyes on her and looked up questioningly. "Something wrong?"

"You really didn't see it, did you? I never thought I'd say this, but could be the gnome was right. Your vision is a real weakness, and that makes you a danger to everyone who depends on you."

She scowled but bit off an angry retort and looked into the distance then finally replied with a defeated sigh, "Yeah, you're right. I'll go and see Grobby's priest when we get back."

They entered the tavern through the main door so they could show off their kill, and she looked around to see if Casavir was there. She still hadn't forgiven him yet. She took a breath and announced, "We're back and we got enough game for a week, Uncle. Maybe more! Let's celebrate with a feast tonight!" She was about to add a dig about how lucky she was that Bishop was a real man who knew how to hunt, but she saw the regret in Casavir's eyes and thought better of it. She would talk to him later when Bishop was out. She would try to work on Bishop's animosity towards him too because she did consider him a friend, no matter what Bishop thought of him. She knew she had to make it up to the rest of them too. No one but Neeshka would have been happy to be left behind in the city. But they all came around for hugs, all but Casavir anyway, who seemed to want to keep his distance from Bishop. She handed Elanee a bundle of berries as they helped haul their kill to the kitchen and promised not to leave her next time. Neeshka was a fountain bubbling over with questions. Dee shushed her and whispered, "I'll tell you all everything later."

Duncan rushed over when he heard she was back. "Glad you're back, lass. There's someone's been looking for you, a knight and one of the Nine! Seems there's been some trouble and they think you're involved."

She sighed and looked up at the sky. "Gods, what now? I can't imagine what it could be unless maybe we were hunting on Nasher's private lands or something. It can't be anything too serious. Bish?" She turned to Bishop, but he was no where to be seen. "Now where did he take off to?" She didn't see it, but Casavir, Khelgar and Grobnar noted that he took off at the first mention of trouble.

Duncan looked worried though, wringing his hands in his apron. "An important man like Lord Nevalle wouldn't have been sent down here for somethin' like poaching, lass. He's Lord Nasher's right hand man! I sent Sal to let him know you're back."

She gave her uncle a reassuring hug. "It sure couldn't be any worse than what I'm already dealing with, could it? Don't worry. I just hope he doesn't get here before I have time to wash off the trail dust and change." She chuckled as she headed to her room and asked Cillian, "I wonder what you wear for an audiance with a knight?"

She had bathed, cleaned out her pack and repacked it, and changed clothes three times. She had finally settled on her Harper leathers and her Watch cloak and a minimum of paint, which was beginning to make her skin break out anyway. Duncan knocked on her door. "He's back, lass. You better come quick!"

She followed him to the common room where she saw a tall, regal looking blond haired man wearing the blue and white tunic of the Nine striding purposefully towards her.

"What can I do for you?," she asked.

"Dierdre Farlong, also known as Dee Farlong, also known as Dee the Tall...you seem to have quite a few aliases...Dee Longshanks..."

She cut him off and growled, "That last one only by those who aren't overly fond of their teeth." But he was a knight of Neverwinter, so she took a deep breath and said, "Just call me Dee Farlong, it's short for Dierdre. Now what's this about?"

He replied sternly, "Dierdre Farlong, you stand accused of a most heinous crime, the murder of the citizens of the village of Ember!"


	9. Outlaw

Ch 9 Outlaw

Dee stepped into her room, holding the door for Cillian to pass. It was a hot summer evening, and she opened her window to catch the breeze from the sea, wrinkling her nose at the dockside smells which were especially fetid from the heat. She set a plate of the food she promised Duncan she would eat on her table. Cillian looked up at her a hopefully. She kissed his snout and set the plate on the floor. He sniffed it and looked up at her guiltily. "You haven't eaten since morning. How're you gonna hibernate if you don't fatten up?" She smiled at him and answered, "I'll get something later, my love. And I don't need to hibernate." "Great," she thought with a sigh, "now my bear, my uncle, Shandra, and Khelgar are nagging me." The bear cocked his head and studied her before licking the plate clean.

She put on a brave front for her friends and companions, but as the reality of the trial sunk in she became more anxious. It didn't matter that she was innocent if the Luskans made her look guilty as sin, and there was no telling what dirty tricks they would pull. Bishop had been little help either. He disappeared for days at a time leading hunting parties for the nobles and wealthy merchants of the city, and she was too consumed with proving her innocence to go along, even if he _had_ invited her. And despite the turmoil in her life, she still had her obligation find out everything she could about the King of Shadows and spread the warning along the Harper network. Just as she had predicted to Cormick, his cult had spread here among the spoiled brats of the nobility.

She hardly ate these days, and her fitful sleep was broken by disturbing dreams more than ever. Last night she dreamed she was standing on the gallows with the noose around her neck. The crowd, caught up in the bloodlust, jeered. Casavir was on the platform beside her admonishing her to repent, and Daeghun was watching in the crowd with a look of disgust on his face. The hangman pulled the lever that opened the trap door to send her plunging to her death. The last thing she saw as she fell and the noose tighten around her neck was the hangman removing his hood: it was Bishop. She awoke choking and promptly threw up.

She watched Cillian circle three times before he settled on the rug; it was funny how many animals do that. What would happen to him...she shook off the thought. That was silly; she would be with him in the Grove of the Unicorns if Meilikki found her worthy of claiming her from Kelemvor. It must be terrible to be faithless like Bishop, to have no hope for the next life. That might be why he was so angry and bitter; he mocked her faith constantly, and she in turn prayed for him. It filled her with despair, and she wished she knew what had caused him to lose his faith, but his past was still a closed book to her. He wouldn't even talk about his own frequent nightmares, and more than once afterwards he grabbed her and asked if he had been talking in his sleep. "At least I kept my faith despite everything, no matter how unfair it is," she said aloud. "Gods, could I be any more self-righteous?," she chided to herself in response. "That's what comes of spending so much time with Tyrians." Cillian just grunted.

She sighed and poured a mug of mead and drained it then brushed out her hair, kicked off her her boots and stripped down to her small clothes, tossing her clothes in the basket for the launderess. It felt good to get her clothes off. She wanted a bath but balked at the thought of soaking in hot water. Perhaps later. "What I wouldn't give for an icy mountain stream right about now, love." Cillian grunted his agreement. "I know, it's hot for you here too love, but I missed you so much I today." It had been a unusually hot day for this early in the summer, too hot for armor, and she was only wearing leathers. She pitied her squire brothers and sisters who mostly wore plate.

Sir Grayson seemed amused that she was actually taking her duties as a squire seriously. He wasted no time in making her train with a shield after he shoved her swords aside with his and knocked her on her backside with ease. He was also pleasantly surprised that she knew her way around a stable and a forge and didn't mind whatever hard, dirty work he assigned her, unlike many of his noble-born squires. Along with Shandra she mucked out his stable, cleaned manure off his boots, and did any other dirty job he assigned her without complaint. She even brought Elanee over to examine his favorite mare.

But she was learning there was so much more expected of a knight besides being good with a sword. Often she felt like a fraud. The other squires were so cultured that they made her feel like more of a country bumpkin that ever. They were expected to be versed in the politics of the city, know the popular court dances and music and be able to converse intelligently on many subjects. So often she was quiet when she was with them so as not to betray her ignorance. What saved her was she was fairly well-educated; Daeghun had seen to it that she could read and write Common and speak but not read Elven and some Orcish, though her education had tended towards his favorite subject, history.

Thus her table was piled with books on the conflicts between Luskan and Neverwinter that she had borrowed from the archives, the temple of Oghma, her knight, Aldanon, Sand, or anyone else who would lend them. Oddly enough, she found a case similar to hers that occurred three hundred years in the past. Dee filled several sheets of paper with notes she hoped she could use at the trial. She had to stop working for her uncle because so many people were coming in to the tavern to gawk at his notorious niece. She told him dryly that he should just start charging a two drink minimum. It left her more time to read, though. In her better moments she was beginning to understand that she was only a pawn in the never-ending game between the two cities. In her worse moments, she fantasized about different ways of making Torio die for what she had done.

She leaned out the window and breathed in the sea air. She caught sight of Casavir in the distance walking back from the evening service the temple. She waved, and he nodded in return. They had taken some small steps to mend their broken friendship. He had insisted on going with her and Sand that day to the Watch office to meet with Sir Grayson whether she wanted him there or not, and since Bishop was suddenly no where to be found, she grudgingly accepted his company. They walked back to the tavern in silence until he apologized for hurting her with his words but not for what he had said. It was the kind of apology that still left much unspoken, and she regretted that they had yet to resume the easy camaraderie that had existed between them.

Sand thought they had stalled about as long as they could in preparing for the trial. Sir Grayson warned her that Torio appeared in Nasher's court every day demanding justice. Yeah, she thought bitterly, I'd like to give that wench some justice. Dee had been given leave by Lord Nasher to go to Old Owl Well to see if Callum would appear as a character witness. She also was asked by one of the clerics at the temple of Lathander to take an offering to Brother Merring, and as it was on the way, it was a good excuse to see Bevil and Daeghun and her old friends for what could be the last time, but she had been ashamed to face them with the accusation still hanging over her, and now it was too late to make the trip. She gazed out at the ships and the lack of activity on the docks and thought again how easy it would be to stow away aboard a ship bound for anywhere and put this all behind her. She would need some kind of disguise though; she was too well known around here.

She was leaning over pensively on the window sill when Bishop slipped in the door, and he smiled as he took in the perfect view of long, shapley legs and firm, round ass, and he thought of taking her right there. She was so still he was sure she wasn't aware of his presence, but a sudden tension in her stance told him she had heard him enter. He glanced at the bear lying on the floor next to the bed, who looked back at him with what seemed like a smirk.

She was determined not to speak to him unless he apologized for disappearing again without a word. That day she found out about the accusation he had vanished and not returned for hours. His excuse was that he had to take the elk head to a taxidermist to have it mounted. She accepted it then, but he seemed to be making it a regular habit.

"I was beginning to wonder if you were coming tonight, or at all," she said coolly.

He thought to himself, "Yeah, and I wouldn't have if I'd gotten anywhere with that merchant's daughter." The wench was too skinny for his liking and wasn't as nearly as pretty or clever as she thought she was. He was perfectly aware that she was just using him to get back at her daddy, but she was very, very rich, so he would let her until he got all he could from her, which before long would lead to a bag of coins from her father in exchange for the promise of never seeing her again. He had to have something to fall back on if Dee was found guilty, as he expected. He had no faith whatsoever in justice and knew that Nasher would dutifully and happily hang her if it meant avoiding another war with Luskan. Besides, the way Dee looked at him now sometimes with her eyes shining, like he was the only man in the world, and the way he caught himself looking at her the same way made him nervous. If he didn't watch it, he'd be tied down.

She hadn't turned or spoken again, so he gathered she must still be mad at him. He was tempted to leave until she begged him to come back, but he looked at that ass again and wanted her tonight. He sent Karnwyr over to her. She liked the mutt almost as much as he did. She turned briefly and smiled at Karnwyr, who brushed against her then headed to his usual spot on the floor, before she turned back to the window. As she turned, her new 'spectacles' caught the light of the setting sun and offered him something else to stare at.

His lustful thoughts were cast aside and walked over to look more closely. "You got them then? How do they work?" He took her face in his hands and turned her to face him then pulled the spectacles off her face and examined them, questions pouring out. "They make your eyes look huge. Is this silver? Can you wear them while you're fighting?" Held them and peered through them at a book on her table. "You can actually see through these things? It's all a blur to me."

She took them back and carefully put them in a small case. She momentarily forgot that she was mad at him and beamed happily like a child with a new toy and blurted out, "Ooh, Bish, they're amazing! There are so many things she I've never seen before--the details of the heraldry on the pennants on the spires of Castle Never. Or clouds!"

He raised an eyebrow. "Clouds? You're telling me you've never seen clouds?"

She shrugged. "I thought I had. I was aware of the different colors in the sky, you know, blue, white, gray, but now I find myself stopping to stare in amazement at the different kinds of clouds!"

"They look fragile." He wondered how long they would last in a fight. "Were they expensive?"

She rolled her eyes. "Gods yes, even after the 'friend of Grobnar' discount, and I thought it would be prudent to buy an extra pair. You should have been there, Bish." She chuckled before she continued. "I was afraid of Gnomish technology after hearing Grobnar's tale of the pitfalls of spring-mounted codpieces. You should've seen the Artificer of Gond--he makes Grobby look sane!"

He snorted contemptuously. "He's a gnome. There's a big surprise. The only reason that race survives is that they breed like rabbits."

She turned and walked back out the window. "He listened to all my fears then explained patiently how they worked like I was a mentally deficient child and told me that they were perfectly safe. Then he showed me how I could use them to start a fire."

He chuckled and walked up behind her and put a hand on her hip and caressed it. "Sounds like a gnome. No more bar fights for you though, sweetheart. You'll have to find another hobby."

She snorted and replied, "Yeah, I've been put on notice anyway that I have to control my temper and avoid public brawls. It broke Khelgar's heart I think. Sand says it would help with my defense, and Casavir took me aside, at Sir Nevalle's request," she added, mindful of Bishop's groundless jealousy of the paladin, "and he lectured me patiently about the proper and decorous conduct of a squire, especially one trying to prove she wasn't a mass-murderer."

He leaned over her, pushed her hair aside, and kissed her neck then drew back to look at her. He ran his hand down her back. "You're too cute to be a mass-murderer." She was warming to him, like she always did. The lavender silk under clothes were trimmed with sage green ribbon. The top was cut low and the bottoms rode high on her hips. "These are sexy. You buy 'em for me?" Part of the reason he'd been staying away so much was to punish her for her refusal to dress the way he wanted her to. The way he saw it, if a wench had a body like hers, she might as well show it off. But she was trying to compromise with what she wore underneath or to bed, and it was almost as good. Funny how a wench wearing next to nothing was more erotic than one wearing nothing at all.

She looked at him over her shoulder and smirked, suddenly remembering she was mad at him. "No, but I 'spose they'll fit you. Didn't figure you as the type to wear women's underthings though."

He felt a throb of arousal at the thought of the delicate silk against his skin. Then he scowled and smacked her hard on her right flank for putting the thought in his head. She gasped then bent over and stuck her backside out at him and said defiantly, "Is that all you got? Grobby could hit harder."

He growled, "I've got more than you can take, sweetheart. Don't push me!" He smacked her again hard enough to leave a handprint then grabbed her and bit her angrily on the back of her neck and followed up with a flurry of kisses. Cillian's ears perked up and he looked over at her, but he decided she wasn't in danger. Karnwyr looked over too then lay back down. It was just one of their odd human mating rituals.

She frowned at an unpleasant scent on him she couldn't quite place but definitely killed the mood. She tried to shake him off. "Come on, Bish. Hells, you need a bath. I'm not gonna throw open my legs for you every time you decide to grace me with your presence."

He grunted as he unfastened his trewes and forced his knees between her legs, "I'm sure, the way you're dressed. Should have thought of that before you got me worked up, sweetheart."

She sighed as she tried to squirm out of his grasp. "I'm undressed because in case you haven't noticed, it's hot. Bish, come on! I have a lot on my mind. It's not like _you're_ going on trial for murder. And you should be concerned too. You were all there in Ember."

She winced as he grabbed a handful of hair and jerked her head back and hissed dangerously in her ear, "That sounded like a threat, sweetheart."

Cillian sat up and growled a warning, so he released her. That damned bear of hers almost mauled him before she managed to call him off the last time he had to correct her smart mouth.

She reached back to caress his cheek, trying to diffuse his anger. Not long ago she would have elbowed him hard in the ribs until he let her go then thrown him out, but she was losing the will to fight with him. She spoke soothingly, "It wasn't a threat, Bish. I'm just sayin' we were all there. Hells, I'd have to be a really evil bitch to want to wish my trouble on you."

He slipped his arms around her waist, slid his hands up to her breasts, and resumed nuzzling her neck. "Comes with being the leader, sweetheart. You're the target. You brought it on yourself when you ran that Luskan ship out of town, and now they want revenge. I would've thought you were too smart to make enemies of the Hostower."

He lifted the camisole off over her head and kissed down her exposed back. She was going to make him work for it tonight, but he'd make her pay for it later. He looked at her murmured the first compliment that came to mind. Wenches always fell for that. "It's cute that you have dimples on all your cheeks, I ever tell you that, sweetheart" as he bent and kissed her on each one then dropped down to kiss a particularly sensitive spot on the backs of her knees. He smiled as he felt her shiver. That was more like it. He slid his hands up her thighs, following with his tongue, and tugged at the delicate fabric. "Ooh, these tie on the sides. You _did_ buy these for me." He jerked hard on one of the ties, then the other then snatched the delicate fabric and let it fall to the floor.

"Hey! That's Sembian silk! You tear 'em, you owe me another pair."

He chuckled. "You talk too much, wench, but I know how to shut your mouth." He pushed her legs apart and worked his way up her thighs.

She gasped and bit her lip. Sweet Sharess, he could play her body like Grobnar played a lute. She gave in; it was going to happen anyway, so she might as well enjoy it.

Later they stood together quietly gazing out the window and enjoying the sea breeze. She hoped they hadn't been too noticable to the passersby below, and he had been grunting louder than usual to make sure they were. He stood behind her, his arms wrapped around her holding her against him. He hadn't bothered to undress, and her back smarted from scratches where the buckles on his armor had bit into her skin. He nuzzled his favorite spot below her ear. She turned her head to look at him and asked softly, "What do you think about the trial, Bish?"

He paused and met her eyes before he asked, "Are you just making conversation, or do you really want to know? I'll respect you a lot more if you admit it now."

She turned away and scowled as she said, "Just making conversation? Don't be an ass, Bish. Why wouldn't I want your advice? I'd think my lover of all people might have some for me."

He grabbed her chin and forced her to face to him so he could see her eyes. "You really want my advice?" She nodded, so he continued. "I think you should end this now. Just skip the trial and kill the Luskan ambassador. That'll send the Hostower a message of what you think of their justice."

She was quiet as she pondered that possibility. Finally she said, "Killing--yeah, it's what I'm good at, but you make it sound easy, Bish." She laughed darkly. "That would be fitting considering she accused me of murders she probably ordered. She matched the description of the woman in Port Llast who was stirring the folks there against me. I doubt she's an easy person to get to though."

He shrugged and replied, "She isn't bedding anyone, and other than a few guards and servants, the only one to worry about is the other ambassador. He's a really big, ugly brute with tattoos on his face. If you weren't with _me_ I'd suggest you to seduce him, but I don't like sharing. But..." He wrapped a strand of her hair around his finger. "we could just run from the whole trial. We could find a hidden trail and camp for a year or two until this all blows over."

She turned and wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him softly. "Was that an offer, or are you just making conversation?"

He gazed searching into her eyes again before answering, "If it was an offer, what would you say?"

She swallowed hard before she replied, "What if I said yes? I admit I was thinkin' the same before you came in."

He raised an eyebrow, not having expected such easy acquiescence, and he wasn't really sure what to say next. "Careful, sweetheart, the paladin wouldn't be happy to hear you talk like that. You wouldn't want to disappoint him. You should proceed with the trial for now, and we'll keep our options open."

She sighed and looked back out the window. "It's not just him. I wouldn't be able to see my father or friends ever again, and everyone who believes in me would be so disappointed. I'd let my knight down too. I'd become an outlaw, a blackguard, and so would you if you were with me. We would have to go far away. There'd be too big a price on my head here." She sighed and looked down. "And the worst part is it would look to everyone like an admission of guilt. It's not fair! I didn't ask for any of this."

She hoped for comfort, but instead he sneered, "Knight? Sir Grayson? Don't tell me you're still taking all that squire crap seriously. You _know_ they just set that up as a political maneuver." Another possibility occurred to him then, and he scowled dangerously and grabbed her by the shoulders and shook her. "I see what it is. You got your eye on your knight now, is that it? Already been serving him on your knees?"

She broke free and shoved him away. "Gods, Bish, you can be so disgusting sometimes! No, I _don't_ have my eye on him, and I've never been on my knees for anyone but you. Besides, you don't have to worry about him. The gossip from the other squires is he likes men." It was true, but she would have said it even if it weren't. Bishop could get ugly when he was jealous.

He pulled her to him and nuzzled her jaw, momentarily placated, and said, "Your knight likes men? What _is_ it about them? I'd heard that about Nevalle too. Just as long as he doesn't think you're manly enough he could go for you anyway, sweetheart."

She shook him off angrily and spat, "I am so sick of this, Bishop! Have I ever given you any reason for to be jealous?"

He grabbed her again and held her close and said defensively, "I've seen the way men look at you and it makes me crazy. You seem to spend a lot of time with Casavir and Sand, and it looks like a lot of flirting going on to me."

She gave him an incredulous look. "Why are you even surprised men notice me the way you had me dressing! I got tired of being asked how much I charged." She sighed. "It's not like I ask for it, Bish. I've always found talking to men easy." She paused then added, "I don't flirt with Casavir, you know that. And besides, Sand would be more interested in you than me." It was a lie; she and Sand used to flirt shamelessly but harmlessly without any intent to carry it further every time she went to his shop. That was, before she was with Bishop. She was getting good at telling him what he wanted to hear before his jealousy turned ugly.

He chuckled. "Is that so? I should've guessed from his hair and the way he dresses. Makes sense now that I think about it and probably explains his feud with Nevalle, especially if they were once lovers. I still think you spend too much time with him though."

"He is my lawyer, isn't he?" She turned and kissed him twice softly then drew his lower lip into her mouth and bit it gently before releasing it. "But it's you I'm with, Bish. I only want you." She almost used _the word _but held back, fearful of his reaction and not really sure about her true feelings for him. She changed the subject. "He's taking me shopping tomorrow to pick out something, how did he put it, 'suitable' to wear. But no dresses. I already told him I haven't worn a dress since I was five."

He grinned teasingly. "I'd love to see you in a dress cut down to here," running a finger between her breasts to her navel, "and up to here," putting a hand on her hip. "It would be a crime to hide those legs of yours under a skirt." He added, with a cruel smile, "Don't spend too much though, sweetheart. The hangman gets to keep what you're wearing as part of his payment, you know. He'll probably even chop off your fine hair to sell to a wig maker."

She pulled away and gasped in horror, "Cyric's balls, Bish, you're awful." She thought about it then added, "Good thing I didn't let Neesh burn the clothes I brought from West Harbor then."

He smirked at her as he snatched the lavender silk from the floor and held it to his nose and breathed in her musky scent. "I'd better keep these safe for you. They'll help me think of something pleasant while I'm trying not to kill those rich fools I'm taking out day after tomorrow." He could also put them to good use when he pleasured himself if there weren't any interesting wenches with the hunting party.

She looked at him sadly. "You're not leaving again? You just got back."

He shrugged. "It's a busy time of year, sweetheart. Those rich fools in Blacklake like to head out into the woods in the summer to camp, if you can call it that, and pretend they're hunters. I'd take you, but trust me, you would hate it. They can't even set out for a day without pavillions and fancy dishes and silver candlesticks and silk cushions and Calimshan rugs and at least half a dozen servants each and as many baggage mules. Then _if_ I can get them to shut up so they don't scare off all the game, Karnwyr flushes some their way, and if one of them manages to hit it at all, I usually have to finish it off. Otherwise they just let me do the hunting while they take the credit. The worst part is they're not interested in the meat, they only want a trophy. It's disgusting."

She put her arms around him and gazed into his eyes. "If you hate it so much, why bother? You can't need the coin that bad after some of the hauls we've had."

He shrugged her off with a scowl, leaving her wondering what she said wrong this time. He hated it when she talked like that. It made him feel like a kept man. "It's what I do, sweetheart. Don't try to turn me into one of your pets like those other fools. I don't see you give up smithing or saving Faerun for me."

She looked as if she was about to cry and asked, her voice cracking, "Are you staying tonight at least?" She knew by now showing vulnerability served only to antagonize him, but she couldn't help herself. She swallowed and fought to control herself. With resignation, she asked quietly, "Will you be back in time for the trial?"

He stroked her cheek and replied, "I'll only be gone a few days, sweetheart. I want to be here." It was true. For one thing, the fools he was taking hunting wanted to be back. She was something of a celebrity, and her trial was the social event of the season. He'd gotten the last job because he was bedding her, and he entertained them around the campfire with lewd stories. But Bishop wanted to be there for the trial too. If they hanged Dee, he was going to make the Luskan whore pay for every false word she said against her. He'd get her. Not right away; he agreed with the old proverb about serving revenge cold, but once she let her guard down, he would get her eventually. He would do her slowly, and in the end she would beg for death. He had given so much thought to how he would do it that it rarely occurred to him that Dee just might win.

She walked over and sat on her bed, looking worried. As if reading his mind she asked, "I'm really getting scared, Bish. _Would_ it be possible to kill the Luskan ambassador? I've seen their residence. The wall that surrounds the grounds is ten feet high and topped with razor wire. I would expect it's probably heavily warded too."

He came over and sat beside her and put an arm around her. "You've been to their embassy? Sounds like you've been giving it some thought then?"

She shrugged. "Oh, I had a crazy idea that if I could talk to her I could somehow reason with her."

He snorted. "Crazy. Yeah, you got that right. People like her don't understand mercy. You can't reason with them."

She stood and paced in the space between Cillian and Karnwyr. "Is it even possible? Alright then, how would you even do it? You could snipe at them from the rooftop of one of the nearby estates, but you would have to use a strong poison on your arrows to make sure she was dead."

He chuckled as he watched her pacing, fists balled like she was ready to punch someone.

"A woman like her probably has her food checked for poison, and there's a chance of killing some unsuspecting servant or cook anyway, so that's out. With a really deadly poison you could kill her with a scratch from a hat pin if you_ accidently _bumped into her on the street."

He felt himself growing incredibly hard hearing her talk like this. "Yeah, that might work, sweetheart. Go on. What else could you do to her?"

She paused in her pacing and sat next to him again. She had the same deadly expression she usually reserved for orcs. "I'd rather make it more personal. Cut her throat in her bed. That seems too easy a death. I want her to suffer, Bish! I've had fantasies of staking her out naked in the woods with some raw meat to lure the predators and let them take care of her." She shuddered. It felt good to give voice to all her dark thoughts.

He groaned, grabbed her, and kissed her roughly. "I love it when you talk dirty, sweetheart."

She gasped and tried to break away. "Ow! Hells, Bish, you're insatiable! Alright, take off the armor at least."

He chuckled and said, "I warned you about getting me worked up, sweetheart."

She kissed him deeply and caressed his stubbled cheek. "Take the armor off? Please? I need to feel your body against mine. I want to taste your sweat and look into your beautiful eyes."

He chuckled. "Is that so? What else do you like?"

She looked at him through her lashes and answered, "I love to play with your hairy chest and feel those chiseled muscles of yours move under my hands. I like grabbing your hairy backside too and giving you a good squeeze. It makes you thrust so hard and deep I feel like you're going to split me in half. And I love it when you wake me up kissing me and your beard tickles me, then you're inside me again."

It was hard to argue with a woman who wasn't afraid to say what she wanted. He stroked her thigh. "Then put on that little white thing...the lacy one, or no, some stockings."

She smiled and pulled them out of the chest. "I only bought these for you, you know. Maybe I'll buy a gown cut cut high on the sides and low in front just for you to wear with them." She sat, lifted her leg, slid the stocking over her foot and rolled them up sensuously, caressing her leg slowly as he watched, then did the same with the other. She smiled seductively as she leaned back on her elbows and stroked his chest with her toe. "Now it's your turn. Strip."

He chuckled and stood. She'd done it often enough for him. "I can do that."


	10. Stalking a Different Prey

Chapter 10 Stalking a Different Prey

The first rule: find a place which provided a good view of the subject yet was secluded enough to allow you to observe undetected. A vacant estate, most recently used in a sting operation by the City Watch, provided the ideal location. It was a simple matter to pick the lock on the kitchen door and slip inside under cover of darkness, then head quietly up to the servants' quarters in the attic where a small window overlooked the back of the subject's residence. Hold a pillow against one of the panes to mask the sound of breaking glass. Then all that was left to do was to get comfortable by pulling over a chair to the window and arranging the dust cover to hide under it. But not too comfortable. It wouldn't do to fall asleep and be found like that. The only light was that provided by Selune, but that didn't matter once your eyes adjusted to the darkness. Surveillance was tedious work though. The only company was buzzing insects and skittering rodents.

Then wait for an opportunity. Rule number two is 'One shot, one kill.' Take down the prey quickly without drawing attention to yourself and thwarting any chance of escape. Thus the poison. The bolts had been dipped in a concoction made of wyvern venom, arsenic, deadly nightshade, and yew berries. Once the poison got into the bloodstream, unless the target had an antidote at hand, death occurs within minutes. It was unlikely that the victim, no, target would have an antidote that would work on all four poisons, or could receive immediate treatment by a cleric who could neutralize the poison. But it was possible; therefore the shot itself had to kill.

Also essential was an escape route. The best way out of here was over the rooftops, moving silently as a ghost, but that would only take you so far. It was impossible to cross from Blacklake to the Merchant quarter that way without help. There was also the option of slipping away through the sewers too, but that was risky unless you had contacts in the thieves guild to show you the safe paths. Going over land there were the Watch outposts to deal with. Forntunately the incompetent, lazy, and corrupt hadn't been entirely eliminated from the ranks of the Watch, so it was just a matter of knowing who was on duty. And just to be safe, some kind of magical disguise would further ensure that you wouldn't be recognized. Something like alteration powder. The sniper shouldn't use bolts that bore any identifying marks and should also use a crossbow that could be disposed of in the sewers after the deed so as not to be found in the vicinity with the murder weapon.

Murder. Yeah...Murder. That's what this was for sure, no way of getting around that. But you have to remind yourself it was no less than the Luskan wench deserved and more than likely the only way she would ever face justice for her crimes. Therefore a small spyglass was an essential piece of equipment as well to be certain the target was the intended prey and not just some hapless servant. There would be little time for another shot, and a leathal shot would be difficult if not impossible once the prey spooked.

The third rule was to become familiar with the prey. Servants were a great source of information and happy to oblige with gossip, especially servants who weren't treated well by their employer. It proved easy enough to chat them up at the market if you dressed and acted the part. So far, she was a creature of habit; she rose at the same time every morning, had a massage, bathed, dressed, ate a light breakfast, abused her servants, then made an appearance in Nasher's court. Sometimes she shopped, but she rarely bought anything. She didn't seem to socialize much outside of the embassy, nor did she receive many callers. Too bad; she was still fairly young, wasn't bad looking, and here she was wasting her youth away for what, money? Power? No doubt she expects to be richly rewarded for her service.

There was the other 'ambassador' to contend with too, the one who matched the description the dryad gave as the leader of the murder squad. He was no where to be seen so far and must be keeping a very low profile, or he may have already slunk back under whatever rock he crawled out from under. She seemed nervous and fearful of someone, possibly him, but probably her Luskan masters. She often paced alone in the garden, which would be an ideal place to strike as it was hidden to view from the street or the mansion. Watching her pace like a caged animal, it was almost possible to pity her. Almost, but you just had to remind yourself what she did and harden your heart like steel.

"Yeah, steel." Dee banished any thought of pity and leaned forward and squinted at her target. "Focus, girl. Remember why you're here." These new spectacles were definitely worth the price, she thought grimly. She watched her, following her movements with the sight on the crossbow. Dee felt some satisfaction seeing that the Luskan wench didn't seem to be able to sleep either. She held her breath, put her finger on the trigger, pulled lightly, hesitated, then released it and sat back. She wiped away the sweat beaded on her forehead. The Luskan wench turned and entered her residence.

"Hells woman, get a spine! The trial's in two days," she muttered. She sat back and took a deep breath and thought about it. There _was_ still the matter of the other one. It was caution staying her hand, nothing more. She needed to know if he was about. After all, he was the one who had actually carried out the murders. She had to know for sure who he was. The name, the description, it was just too much of a coincidence. She justified her hesitation. "I'm not losing my nerve. I need to wait and see if I can get him too."

This was the third time she had come here since the day Bishop set out with his hunting party, and she was running out of time. He didn't know what she was doing. No one did, not even Neeshka, and it was no small matter keeping her activities a secret from her companions, especially Shandra, who shadowed her every step. It was no simple task getting rid of her. Dee had disappeared to her room again complaining of headaches, made a pretense of drinking a herbal draught offered by a concerned Elanee, and stuffed the bed with pillows to make it appear she was there if someone should look in on her. Cillian reluctantly stayed behind in the room and growled at anyone who looked in. Nothing like an 800 pound bear to keep visitors at bay. Anyone looking in would see the sleeping bear and assume Dee was there too. Then it was a simple matter of slipping out through the attic window and to the roof of the adjoining building and so on until it was safe to go overland.

Poor bear. She would make it up to him, she hoped. She told herself over and over that whether she was found innocent or not, this wench and her accomplice were going to get away with murdering the people of Ember, and she just couldn't let that happen. She took a drink of water wishing it was mead and went back to the window and waited, cursing herself again for missing the opportunity. "Hells," she admitted, "I didn't _miss_ the opportunity; I lost my nerve." What was so different now? She'd already done plenty of killing in her twenty years.

She couldn't stay much longer. She needed _some_ sleep, and she had promised to go shopping with Sand for something to wear for her trial. The later she stayed, the more likely it was she might be missed. She had just gotten back and crawled into bed the night before when Duncan and Casavir opened her door to check on her. They had even sent for the Artificer of Gond to see if the spectacles were causing her headaches. She'd had plenty of time to think sitting here alone. She missed Bishop terribly. If he knew what she was planning, would he be here encouraging her? She wondered at the timing of Bishop's hunting party. In her heart, she knew that despite his offer to run away with her down some hidden trail, Bishop didn't want to make himself her accomplice. She wasn't so blinded by her feelings for him that she didn't notice how readily he invoked the wrath of the paladin when she agreed to his suggestion. She wondered as she leaned forward at the window again if he was even aware of his insincerity.

"So this is where you've been sneaking off to."

Dee swore and nearly jumped out of her skin. She spun and aimed in the direction of the voice. All she could make out in the darkness was the telltale swish of a tail and red glowing eyes narrowed at her. "Neesh? Cyric's balls! What are you doing here?," she growled.

Neeshka stepped closer, hands on hips, and spat tersely in her nasally, high-pitched voice, "I should be asking _you_ that. Who's the mark, and why didn't you cut me in? This really hurts, Dee."

Dee snapped, "'Tis my own business. There was no need to involve anyone else in it. How in the hells did you find me?"

"Find you?" Neeshka chuckled darkly. " It was easy enough to follow you. You almost slipped off a roof twice, and besides, you make as much noise as a bear in a pottery shop. I watched for a while, and when you didn't come out, I came to see what you were doing." Neeshka then took in Dee's dark clothing, the crossbow, the bolts laid out carefully next to the chair, the spyglass, and the broken pane in the window and gasped, "You're not here to rob someone! You're here to..." She put her hands over her mouth to keep herself from saying it and stared at Dee, wide-eyed. Although she had hoped since they had met to pursuade Dee to become her partner in crime, Neeshka was confronted with a side of Dee she had never seen before and hoped to never see again. She broke out in a cold sweat realizing how desparate Dee must be. It occurred to her to wonder how far would she go to protect her secret.

Dee turned back to the window. "I'm doing what I have to do. Trust me, Neesh, you don't want to know. You're my friend. That's why I didn't drag you into this. And because you're my friend, I'm gonna trust you t' mind your own business!"

Neeshka felt warmth flooded her. Friend. Dee really meant it. "That's what friends do, Dee. They watch each other's backs." She bent and reached for a bolt to examine it. "I never knew you had assassin training."

Dee snatched back the bolt. "Don't be touchin' those without gloves on. I don't, but it ain't all that different from hunting. Besides, I found a book at one of the book merchants--_Secrets of the Blackwatch Assassins_. It's got all the rules." She pulled a booklet out of her belt pouch that was almost too small to contain it, a fact which wasn't lost on Neeshka, who put it on her list to examine the first chance she got.

Neeshka glanced at her gloved hands and shivered at what that implied. "Hells, Dee. You're scaring me." The implied poison was one thing, but the worst part was her thinking she could learn assassination from a book. Dee had come far from the green farm wench she once was, but Neeshka was still astounded by how naive she could be and would have laughed in her face if this wasn't so serious. Neeshka had a brief vision of her friend standing dangerously close to the edge of a cliff. She swallowed hard and reached out to talk her back to safety. "You've found plenty of evidence to prove your innocence. It's not as bad as it looks. There must be another way, Dee."

Dee sighed with resignation, "Not from what I can see. Besides, I can't let them get away with it."

Neeshka tried another tack. "You haven't covered your tracks. The merchant might remember selling the book to you once word of the killing gets out."

Dee shrugged. "He might _if_ I had bought it, but I thought of that and filched it." Even in the dark Neeshka could make out the flush of shame on her cheeks. "I left him more than enough coin on his counter to pay for it. I still feel bad though."

Suddenly light flared in an upstairs window across the way. Dee grabbed the spyglass and trained it there then set it down and picked up the crossbow and leaned forward. "This might be my last chance," she murmured. The Luskan wench came into view, but Dee cursed as she realized she couldn't get the shot off from this angle. Not a killing shot, anyway. "Damn! The angle's all wrong for that window."

Neeshka picked up the spyglass and peered out the window beside her. "So that's the one? Torio Claven? What _is_ she wearing? Is that what passes for style in Luskan?"

Dee nodded and stared at her quarry. "Looks like she's arguing with someone judging from her expression and the way she's throwing her arms around, and not one of the servants for certain. Women like her don't tolerate insolence from servants, or so she told the one that I talked to that she sacked last week . She looks like she wants to choke whoever's there with her." She stood and tried to get a better view of where the wench was looking.

There he was. She snatched the spyglass from Neehska and peered through it. "Could it really be him?," she whispered. She studied him again and gasped, her heart in her throat from a fear she hadn't felt since she was a girl.

Neeshka grimmaced as she stared at him. "What an ugly brute! I'd hate to run into him alone in a dark alley. You know him?"

Dee nodded and grabbed the chair to steady herself. "He's a Harborman too. His little brother Bevil was my best friend. Lorne's about eight years older than us. It's been years since I last saw him. Brute's a good word for him. He was one of those people who couldn't take a breath without doin' something mean. The Mossfield boys used to follow him around like puppies. They learned all their nasty tricks from him. You know, I think one reason I got together with Wyl Mossfield was so he would leave my friends alone."

Neeshka nodded. "You've talked about Bevil. He didn't sound like a bully though."

She smiled for a moment. "Bevil was really sweet. He and Lorne were different as night and day. Did I tell you he was the first boy I ever kissed, back when we were five? Me first, then Aimee. I think he takes after his ma, or maybe it was that his pa took off when he was still small. But Lorne? His favorite sport was giving Bevil a good thrashing, and his ma couldn't even control him. He didn't know how to hold a conversation that wasn't punctuated with a slap on the back of the head, a pulled braid, or a punch in the arm."

"This is good, I've distracted her," Neeshka thought as she smiled slyly. "Didn't anyone try to stop him?," she asked.

Dee sat back in the chair. "Cormick. He made it his duty to keep an eye on him and protect the rest of us. He was the only one strong enough to take Lorne. It got worse when we got older. The girls all avoided him. He was always trying to fondle us even though Aimee and I were barely developed, and he just laughed if someone's pa complained. He even tried to force Vera into their barn, but Bevil saw him and ran and got his ma."

"Sounds like a real creep." Actually, he sounded like half the men Neeshka had been involved with, so she looked over at him again to see if he looked familiar. "Did they run him out of town?"

"No, he left on his own. Lorne was never the same after Cormick beat him in the Harvest Brawl. Cormick didn't just take him down a peg, hells, he took him down all the pegs. We all started standing up to him. He ran off and joined the Greycloaks when Cormick did, and no one ever heard from him after that, not that anyone missed him except the Mossfields. His poor ma though--she still asks every merchant, tinker, or traveler who passes through West Harbor if they had seen him or would look for him, but most of us assumed he either got killed in the war, or he was rotting in Nasher's gaol."

Neeshka studied him. "See the tattoos? I've heard that Luskan assassins get facial tattoos to mark which squad they belong to and how many they've killed. It's not common knowledge though, or he wouldn't be able to show his face around here. Unless he uses that alteration powder all the time."

Dee set the crossbow down. "That alteration powder must be pretty good stuff if it made him pass for me."

Neeshka toyed with her tail as she thought about it. "It's good, but it's too expensive to use all the time. Besides, didn't that dryad say she gave him the powder?" She grew quiet and they sat in silence, but from the rapid swish of her tail, Dee could tell she was plotting something.

Dee sighed deeply and looked down. "Gods, I do_ not _want to be the one to tell poor Rhetta about him. It makes sense now there's never been any word. If anyone found out what he's become, they probably didn't have the heart to tell her either."

If someone had asked who served as the voice of reason in their band, no one in their right mind would have suggested the tiefling, but now Neeshka spoke with an uncharacteristic clarity. "Hells, Dee, what are you doing here? Sure, you've killed, but you're not a cold-blooded murderer, and that's what this would be. You're _not_ Lorne. And have you given any thought to what happens after? You're not going to stop the trial, and Luskan will just send someone else after you. You might provoke another war with Luskan! You may feel some satisfaction that they paid for Ember with their lives, but look at her eyes. She's haunted by her guilt and it's eating her up. And as for Lorne? Walking dead, and his soul's already left. His kind don't live long. I have a better idea."

Dee sat back and quaffed her water then said quietly, "I guess I hadn't thought it through enough. I hadn't even thought Luskan might use it as an excuse to attack. Go on."

Neeshka took a deep breath before she spoke. She knew she had to tread carefully here if she had any hope of saving Dee and helping herself at the same time, for she rarely did anything for anyone, even one of those few beings whom she considered a friend, that didn't benefit herself as well. "All right, hear me out before you say anything. What if we pinned something on them? Something that won't come to light unless you're convicted. They'll be disgraced and thrown out of the city, and you can bet they won't receive a warm welcome from their masters. If they're lucky they'll die quickly, and if not, they'll rot in a Hosttower dungeon. We hit the Collector..." she raised a hand to halt Dee, who was already opening her mouth to protest.

She continued quickly before Dee could object. "Just hear me out, Dee. I don't need to loot much from his vault, just get proof for Leldon's gang that I was there, that I beat him to it. We use the alteration powder to make us look like them." She nodded towards the window. "We get proof, we take something to plant as evidence over there, and if you're found guilty, an tip to the Watch leads them to the ambassador's residence. Or we send word to the Collector himself and let his private mercenaries take care of them. Word on the street is he's pretty ruthless. People working for him have 'disappeared.' He beats his mistress too." Neeshka surpressed a smile. She knew that would get to Dee. "Besides, most of his collection was aquired under _questionable_ circumstances. You could return some of it to its rightful owners or give your cut to the poor!"

Dee shook her head skeptically. "That sounds crazy, Neesh."

Neeshka grinned and dropped to her haunches next to her. "Crazier than assassinating them? Crazy enough to work. We can get in and get out before the alteration powder wears off. Just remember to call me 'Torio.'"

Dee leaned forward and whispered, "So how do we get in? And what about his private guards? Hells, what about the servants? If anyone gets killed or even gets hurt, I'm as bad as Torio says I am." Dee steepled her index fingers under her chin as she thought.

Neeshka fingered a couple of wands in her belt which they had taken from someone undeserving in their travels. "That's where these _Wand of Paralyzation _ and _Wand of Sleep _comes in. We use it on the guards, and I have some _Sleep_ scrolls too, choking powder, _Entangle_ scrolls. I'm ready." She handed Dee a sap. "Here, knock them out if you have to. We tie them up and intimidate the servants into making nice in the kitchen."

Dee nodded and interjected, "Hells, no need to intimidate them, toss them a bag of gold or some gems and that should buy their cooperation. Most household servants aren't paid well, but they get a change of clothes a year and better food than many so they put up with it. So...there's still two details you haven't thought of yet. How do we get in, and how do we plant the goods over there, hmmm?"

Neeshka grinned and hugged her. "Kitchen midden from the sewers to get in over there. We don't even need to get in though. It'll look like the loot's been stashed in there. For the Collector, we go in through the service entrance. The cook's apprentice gets up early prepping for breakfast, but there won't be many other servants about at this hour."

Dee put her hands on Neeshka's shoulders and looked her in the eyes. "On one condition. You said you would retire if I did this for you, and I want a promise. Swear it, by Tymora."

Neeshka swallowed hard as Dee's blue eyes bored into her. Could she do it? Stealing was second nature to her, had been since she was old enough to walk. Still, she'd be a legend, even though few would know it. Was it worth it? "I swear, Dee."

"By Tymora?" Dee looked at her gravely.

Neeshka took her hands in her own. "If we do this, I swear by Tymora I'll retire." She even meant it, at least for now.

It was like the gods were smiling on their plot. Dee had questioned Sand about the alteration powder, so she knew how it worked: it was snorted while thinking of or looking at the person whose appearance you wanted to mimic. It sickened Dee at first to think that Lorne had been close enough to her to see what she looked like now without her even knowing it, but Sand had explained that they had only needed to scry her.

They hid in the shadows of the kitchen garden then caught the cook's apprentice as he was taking a bucket of refuse to the bin. Neeshka/Torio grabbed him from behind and held a stilletto to his throat while Dee/Lorne kept watch. Neeshka hissed, "Cooperate and you'll live. Quickly! How many inside?"

The boy answered, trembling, "Just me and the night maid, but Cook will be up soon. There's two guards in the hallway past the kitchen and two more upstairs on the landing, if you're after His Lordship's vault."

Neeshka/Torio hissed as she caressed his cheek, "Never you mind what we're after. You're going to be a good lad and go to sleep, aren't you?" The boy nodded, and she aimed the wand at him. A greenish ray flashed out from the wand, and he slumped to the ground. Dee/Lorne looked at him guiltily and slipped a handful of gold pieces in his vest pocket. They quickly bound his hands and feet and pulled him behind a hedge of rosemary and lavender and slipped to the door.

There was no one in the kitchen, and they were able to surprise the night maid and buy her cooperation with a promise she wouldn't be hurt and with a gold necklace that Neeshka hsf looted somewhere in their travels. They tied her up in a comfortable chair, and before they gagged her, she offered the helpful suggestion to take a vase of water to put out the fire the master always kept burning upstairs. She explained she had seen him hiding something there, possibly the key to his vault. Dee/Lorne thanked her and gagged her. "You can breath alright, lass?" She nodded, so they went to the door and listened for the hallway guards.

Neeshka/Torio stepped into the hallway and distracted the guards there by lifting her shirt and flashing them while Dee hit them with a paralization ray. They bound the guards and listened at the door of the barracks. Neeshka slipped in the door and read the _Sleep_ scroll to make sure the sleeping guards remained asleep then wedged a dagger between the door and the jamb to make it hard to open from the inside. They crept up the stairs. Paralization only worked on one of the upstairs guards though, but Dee/Lorne was able to overpower the other with a minimum of noise.

Just enough noise to awaken the Collector's mistress, Vania, a buxom, faded blonde. She seemed appalling eager to betray her lover. She casually handed over her key and suggested they use her as leverage to get her lover to give up his key. They looked at each other and shrugged. They led her into his room and roused him from his sleep. Dee/Lorne growled, "Stand and deliver!" (she had read that line in a book and liked it). "Turn over your key or the wench gets it!" Neeshka/Torio held her stilletto at Vania's throat, and Vania acted sufficiently frightened.

He looked from one to the other, then to his mistress and chuckled. "You can't be serious. Do you really think I would turn over my collection for _her_? No. Vania, my dear, I will give you the finest funeral this city has ever seen. You will be missed, my pet."

Vania gasped, "You greedy old bastard. I've given you my youth for this?" She turned to Dee/Lorne as she fought back tears. "That painting--he just had it stolen from Lord Amcathra of Waterdeep and it's the star of his collection. Do me a favor and put your sword through it while he watches?"

Dee/Lorne drew her sword and held it to the painting. "Sure thing, sweetheart."

The collector gave a strangled cry. "NO! Take my key." He reached for a book which had been hollowed out and handed it to her. "You won't get away with this. I swear I'll have you hunted down like rabid dogs. And Vania, I'll see to it you end up back in the gutter where I found you!"

Dee/Lorne snarled, "I'm really gonna enjoy this!" and punched him in the jaw, knocking him out. Vania helped Neeshka/Torio tie him to the bed then helped herself to a few trinkets before she led them to the vault. Neeshka, who was wearing a _Ring of Fire Resistance,_ easily retrieved third key from the fireplace without resorting to anything as ridiculous as dousing the fire with a vase of water

Vania helped with the numerical code to finish unlocking the vault door. Dee/Lorne took her by the hand and whispered, "You know it's over when you start betraying one another. Take some of his gold and start a new life. Leave. Now! Join up with a merchant caravan leaving the city at first light. Oh, you might find a friend in this Lord Amcathra if you tell him who has his painting." Neeshka/Torio arched an eyebrow as Vania filled her skirt with as much as she could carry and ran off to pack and wondered how long it would be before Dee was going to have to heed her own advice.

Dee/Lorne rushed back up the stairs after making sure Vania got out safely and leaving a bag of gold in the kitchen for the servants to divide later to find Neeshka standing over Leldon's corpse. It was the strangest coincidence that he had arrived to rob the Collector the same night. What were the odds? It felt more and more like they were puppets on some grand stage, and she wondered who was pulling the strings.

Neeshka/Torio looked at her with a shrug and said, "What? It was him or me. Let's get out of here before someone manages to get out of their bonds." She had finished looting some Cormyrian platinum pieces, a dozen rare old coins, and all the gems she could find when Leldon showed up. He didn't recognize her until she goaded him about being a better thief than he could ever hope to be, then she drew her rapier and dagger and ended his life before he had time to react. He had always underestimated her, and now he paid for it with his life.

Dee/Lorne scooped up a bag of gold pieces. "This is going to the temple of Ilmater for the poor. You got what you need? Let's get out of here." She turned to go and spotted a suit of armor on a stand that took her breath away. It was beautiful, Elven made, mithril, and intricately etched with scrollwork and flowers. She touched it gently then caressed it sensuously like a lover. She could tell it was very old and would only have been worn by Elven royalty, and she was dead certain that this man hadn't aquired it honestly. It belonged on Evermeet, not hidden away in this vault. She opened her enchanted bag and took it off the stand piece by piece and slipped it inside as Neeshka watched the door and growled, "We have to go! " How would she get it back to its rightful owners though? Of course. Sand. She knew him well enough to know he would be deeply outraged too. He wouldn't even ask how she had come by it.

They left the mansion the same way they entered and headed first to the temple of Ilmater to leave a bag of gold in the offering box then with time running out quickly dropped into the sewers where they narrowly avoided a large but amiable utyugh, a carrion crawler, and a few other people who were obviously up to no good. Once they found their way beneath the kitchen of the Luskan embassy, Neeshka stuffed the coins into one of her pouches as Dee stretched up and worked a brick loose with Bishop's dagger in an area of the wall that could be reached by someone through the trap door above. Neeshka raised her eyebrow and asked, "Does he know you have that?"

Dee shrugged. "I more than repaid him for it, so I figure 'tis mine."

They shoved the pouch into the opening and she put the brick back loosely so that if anyone examined the wall, it would be obvious that something was hidden there. Neeshka chuckled as the powder began to wear off and for a moment Dee looked like Lorne with long, pale hair.

They continued through the sewers all the way to the Docks district, and Dee grudgingly admitted to herself it was good to have a guide through the twists and turns and dead ends. Neeshka also seemed to know where the otyughs were stationed. On her own she would have gotten lost for sure. She tried not to think too hard about what they were trudging through. She dumped the poison bolts not far from the tavern. Neeshka nudged her and whispered, "Do me a favor and dump that assassination manual too."

"Oh yeah, thanks Neesh. Got to get rid of the evidence."

Neeshka rolled her eyes and bopped Dee on the back of the head. "No, dump it because it's a whole lot of crap. It belongs down here. Gods Dee, next time, ask the pro."

Dee grinned sheepishly and tossed the manual into the slurry and watched it sink.

After they had climbed out of the sewer and entered the women's bath through the window, they stripped, doused each other with buckets of hot water and scrubbed themselves for a good while with the strongest soap they could find until their skin was red. Dee put her clothes in the laundry basket with a hefty payment and profuse apology to the launderess, but dropped her boots down the privy back into the sewer. She sighed, "I just broke those in too."

Neeshka giggled. "It's just an excuse to buy more."

Dee wrapped herself in a towel and wrapped up her things in another and grabbed the bundle. "I hope Sand doesn't come too early. I'm beat. I think I can finally get some sleep. Night, Neesh."

They parted ways with a hug and slipped quietly back to their rooms. Dee had just opened the door and dropped the bundle on the floor when she was grabbed from behind roughly. A familiar voice snarled, "You're obviously getting real good at lying to the paladin. Where the _hells_ have you been? Slutting around with the devil girl?"

"Bish..." she gasped as he pushed her into the room. "When did you get back?"

He caught her hair and pulled her close to him so he could smell her. "Bathin' in the middle of the night? Had to wash his scent off?"

Cillian stood and growled. She pushed him away. "Don't be ridiculous, Bish!" Maybe it was because she was fresh from the bath that his own scent was so strong, and he had that strange sweet scent about him too. "Ugh, you need a bath. Need a back scrubber?" She gazed into his warm amber eyes knowingly and took him by the hand and led him out of the room.

Bishop pulled his hand away. "You haven't answered my question. Everyone seems to think you're in bed with a sick headache. That damned paladin had the nerve to tell me to leave you alone. So I left and came back through your window. Imagine my surprise to find your bed full of pillows and your damned bear standing guard. You're up to something, and if it's another man, he's dead!"

She sighed. "Hells Bish, I can't believe how much I missed lyin' beside you, but I can't take your jealousy tonight. What is it you always say, 'Ask me no questions and I'll tell you no tales.' Alright then, ask _me_ no questions, and I won't make you an accomplice after the fact. If you can't live with that, then good night." She turned to leave, but he grabbed at the towel and pulled her back.

"Accomplice? You're full of surprises, sweetheart." He pulled her close and kissed her deeply. "Now what was that about a back scrubbing?"


	11. Pretrial Nerves

Chapter 11 Pretrial Nerves

It was nearly dawn by the time she finally got to sleep after slipping out of bed and kissing Cillian on the snout. Poor bear, he had been cooped up in her room for too long, but she swore to make it up to him. She crawled back under the covers and Bishop snuggled against her back, curling an arm around her waist, pulling her close. She drifted off to sleep to the feeling of his warm breath on her neck. Every so often he would stir and murmur softly and give her a squeeze, and she squeezed his hand in return and went back to sleep. This was her favorite time with him. It felt like she had just fallen into a deep, dreamless sleep when there was a sharp rap on her door. Sand was punctual as usual. He called out cheerily, "Wakey wakey! Come along, sleepyhead. It's midday and we have to make you presentable." He knocked again louder for good measure. "Don't make me come in there, little girl."

Dee squinted at the sliver of light streaming in through the gap between the curtains and saw that the sun was directly overhead. She groaned, "Alright Sand, I'm up. I'll get dressed and meet you at your shop." She turned over and gave Bishop a kiss and ruffled his already tousled hair then disentangled herself from his grasp and knelt beside her chest.

Bishop raised his head and stared daggers at the door and muttered, "Let me kill him and we can go back to sleep." He fell back on the bed, watched dig through her trunk and thought of pulling her back to bed. That pansy mage could wait. "Come back to bed. You need something to help you relax, take your mind off the trial, so we should just stay here all day."

She glanced over her shoulder at him grinning at her and patting the bed, his long, lean body barely covered by the sheet and was filled with a sudden urge to pounce on him, but she shook off her lustful thoughts. "Tempting as that is, and it is _very_ tempting, I can't," she replied firmly. "'Tis late, and besides, you already got seconds when we got back to the room this morning."

He smirked and and put his arms behind his head. "Yeah, I did, but I can't help it if I'm a hungry man and you're showin' me a banquet, sweetheart. Why do you need something new? Can't you just wear something you already have?"

Dee shook her head as she slipped on her small clothes. "Sand says the most important part of the trial is theatrics and presentation, and I have to do everything I can to counter Torio Claven. I have to look like I'm innocent. She already looks like a cheap trollop. It's the contrast, you see?"

"Fine, I'll go back to sleep." He pouted and turned on his side and pulled his pillow over his head for a minute before he turned back and peered out at Dee. "Dont' forget to buy some more of that potion while you're over there. You have been having your monthly on time?"

"Hells, Bish," Dee replied tersely as she wiggled a pair of leggings over her hips. "You keep better track of that than I do." She held up various articles of clothing, discarded most in a heap on the floor, then decided on a simple forest green tunic rather than a shirt and a bodice to make it easier to try things on. "But if you must know, I'm due any day. I have cramps that make me want to go kill something, my back aches, and I feel so bloated I can hardly get into my leggings, if that eases your mind. Might actually help with the trial though..." she muttered.

He grumbled, "I thought you seemed as irritable as your bear. Great, I guess that means I'm not getting any until it's over, and with the trial tomorrow..."

She sat in the chair next to her table and pulled on her socks and boots and scoffed. "When have I ever_ not_ given you something? More than you give me sometimes. You know, most men would be sympathetic, might even offer to rub my back or get me some herbal tea." Karnwyr stirred and licked her hand, and she scratched him behind the ears. "At least Karnwyr is sympathetic," she added.

He chuckled and lay back again. "He's a dog, he'll do anything to get you to scratch behind his ears. Yeah, you do take care of me, sweetheart. Get your dogs to take care of you. Get the elf to rub your feet and mix you some tea. Or the paladin." He leered at her. " I have better uses for you. Now come on, come over here. All this talk about it is making me tense."

She turned and faced the mirror as she cleaned her teeth. Looking at him was too tempting. She spit and replied, "I'll see you tonight. How about we have supper here in the room and a bottle of mead and you can help me relax."

But then another thought began to nag at him, and he sat up and stared at her. "You're sure you're not overdue? You sure that isn't morning sickness you have?" The problem with wenches was sooner or later they always wanted a brat. You just couldn't trust them. He didn't think there was a wench alive who was above 'forgetting' to take the potion. The longer you stayed with one, the more likely she was going to present you with a howling brat that may or may not bear any resemblance to you.

She snorted and dragged a brush through her pale shining hair. "Yeah Bish, that's _all_ I need right now. I can tell the King of Shadows he has to wait to attack until I find a sitter." She pulled it into a loose braid and looked back at him watching her. She picked up her sword belt but thought better of it and slipped a few daggers into her boots instead. She looked into his eyes and said haltingly, "But you know Bish...honestly...I do want to have a couple of kids in a few years when I'm older, once I've seen somethin' of the world and I'm ready to settle down. Haven't you ever thought about a kid with your hair and my eyes?"

He gave her a look of utter disgust and replied angrily, " Why is it you wenches can't wait to squeeze out a couple of howling brats? I swear, you're all alike, it's all you think about! Since we're being so honest, you better belive me when I tell you I'm not looking to get tied down ever, sweetheart, so put that thought out of your head right now!"

She tied her pouches onto her belt and put on her spectacles and replied with a huff, "You're the one who brought it up. Fine, it's been noted. But why the hells am I the one who has to drink that disgusting potion every tenday? I don't see why you're not takin' a potion yourself if you're so worried about it!" She stormed to the door, followed by Cillian, who gave Bishop a final growl.

He looked at her like she was mad. "Well now you're just being stupid! I'm not a wench. I can't get knocked up!"

She narrowed her eyes at him and replied coolly, "I'll speak to Sand. I'm sure a simple _polymorph_ spell would fix that." They stepped out, and she slammed the door hard enough to rattle the window.

"Should've figured she would have to get the last word in," he muttered to Karnwyr before he angrily punched the pillow a few times and tried to go back to sleep. But sleep eluded him now. He lay there a while then gave up. "I should follow her to see what she's really up to," he muttered to no one in particular. Karnwyr just whined in response. "Or see what she was up to last night."

He got up and walked to her laundry basket, dropped to his haunches beside it, and pulled out the clothes on top, a black tunic and leggings and a black silk scarf. He wrinkled his nose in disgust. Whatever she was up to with the the devil girl last night led them into the sewers, so it wasn't likely that she had been in someone's bed. He sighed in relief despite himself and checked for hidden pockets but found none. What was it about her that made him feel like this? Whatever it was, he didn't like it. It was like a weight on his chest that made it hard to breathe. It was taking away his control. He dug out other articles of clothing from the basket and smelled them one after another, but other than her own musky scent, he only detected his own. He returned the clothes to the basket and rubbed his chin as he thought about it. Maybe there was loot stashed. Not likely though, because she hadn't had time to stash anything this morning before he surprised her. Still, it wouldn't hurt to look.

He knelt down and looked under her bed but only found a sock, then found nothing under her matress, then crossed over to her chest as Karnwyr looked at him curiously. "What are you looking at, mutt?" he grumbled. Karnwyr sighed and lay his head on his paws. Bishop opened the chest, which had been emptied considerably since she had thrown half its contents on the floor. He memorized the way the remaining contents were placed, not that she was likely to notice anything out of place with the chaos she had left. He went through her small clothes and smelled them to see if he picked up someone else's scent, but there was nothing, only the scent of lavender.

He dug to the bottom and found her old farmer clothes and shook his head. Why would she even hang on to these? Wenches were sentimental like that though. He found a small leather pouch with something hard inside it and poured it out into his hand. He raised his eyebrow as he saw a small silver pin shaped like a harp. Only one reason she would have that, and it explained a few of her disappearances. Too bad he was sleeping with her because he knew a few people who would pay for that information. There was the green cloak that she was wearing the first time he saw her. Underneath it was a neatly folded brown tunic. He paused, then drew it out. A man's tunic. That didn't mean anything though. Half of the time she dressed in men's tunics, but that common among warrior women, especially one who was over six feet tall and had shoulders and arms like a blacksmith. He held it up and looked at it. It _was_ a man's, but not one that _she_ could ever wear and still hope to breathe. It was small enough to fit a lad, or...an elf.

He flushed with rage. Who was he? Couldn't be that nancy mage, who wouldn't be caught dead in a rough tunic like this. Whoever he was, he was dead. He'd get it out of her when she came back. How to confront her on it without letting her know he'd been spying? He looked at the pile of clothes on the floor then folded them neatly and placed them back in the chest, putting the elf's tunic on top. But then while he was trying to think of the elves she knew, he remembered that her foster father was one, and a wave of relief washed over him. It made sense that she had grabbed it by mistake in her haste to put that mudhole she was raised in behind her. He compared it to the clothes she had brought with her and saw that it was made from the same fabric as one of her tunics. He moved her clothes and placed it where he had found it then sighed and sat back against the chest and rubbed his head. Damned wench was making him crazy, and he didn't like it. He hastily pulled on his clothes and whistled for Karnwyr. "Let's get out of here."

Dee slipped out the side door to avoid Shandra until she had time to talk to Sand, which was no small feat when accompanied by a bear. She stepped into his shop and looked about furtively to make sure no one else was there.

Sand stepped away from his workbench and removed a heavy leather apron and neatly folded it and set it aside. "Ah, there you are at last, and with only a small part of your entourage. I was beginning to wonder if you would arrive before the shops close."

She flushed and replied, "Sorry Sand, but I got to sleep late last night...or this morning. Bishop got back last eve." She glanced around the shop again and asked in a whisper, "Do you have some kinds of wards up so we can't be scryed here?"

He arched an eyebrow and replied smoothly, "Naturally. Why? What's the matter?"

She bolted his door then opened the enchanted bag he had sold her and began to withdraw pieces of armor and place them on his workbench. She met his eyes and said, "I need your help getting this back to its rightful owners."

He arched his eyebrow so high it nearly blended into his hairline and picked up a greve to examine the workmanship more closely. Just this morning a rather large thuggish looking man was making the rounds of the merchants to see if someone had tried to sell some things which had been taken in a brazen burglary in the Blacklake district, and a set of antique Elven armor was among the things he was looking for. He met her eyes, took her hand, and asked calmly, "Little girl, what have you been up to, hmmm?"

"Undercover work for the Watch," she lied, flushing. But it was just a white lie, she told herself. She was already cataloguing in her mind the other things she had seen in The Collector's vault that she intended to research to see if they had been stolen. "I'm thinkin' this rightly belongs to the royal family on Evermeet, and you're the only one I know who might have an idea how to get it back to them."

He noted the flush and returned a skeptical look. "Indeed. And it didn't occur to you to turn it in to Captain Brelaina or Marshall Cormick?"

She looked desparate. "Please, Sand, you know it would get tied up in the courts, and he might have some documents to show it was his legally. But even if he did buy it and hadn't had it stolen for him, it doesn't belong to him, sitting there in his private vault. It belongs to your people. It's _Ar' Salu' Tel' Quisst._"

"_Ar' Selu' Tel' Quess," _ he corrected, wincing. He didn't know what was more appalling--her human accent or the rustic Elven dialect she spoke. "'Great high art of the People.' And you're right, though I strongly suspect you're not telling me the whole truth. Very well then, I'll look in to it, but I will need to hide it until I can make the proper contacts. Now be a good girl and help me move this workbench."

She got a grip on the bench and muscled it aside. "Gods, that's heavy, Sand. Don't you have a spell to move that?" She couldn't imagine he could move it any other way. She could barely make out a trap door beneath it in the floor.

He replied with an evil grin, "Of course, but then I couldn't enjoy watching you straining your muscles, and besides, I still owe you for telling Bishop I'm a homosexual. Now be a good girl and bring that armor down the stairs." He pushed at a sconce on the wall, which made the trap door spring open, and picked up his cat and stroked its fur affectionately. "Wouldn't do to have you locked up down there, would it? But if I leave you up here, the bear will probably eat you."

A short time later after the armor was safely stowed away, Sand locked up the shop and they returned to the tavern to collect Neeshka, Shandra, and Elanee. Dee noticed Qara sitting alone and felt a pang of guilt for leaving her at the tavern most of the time. She smiled and said, "You're welcome to come along with us." Qara actually smiled back at her for a second before she caught herself and assumed her usual air of teenage disdain.

"It beats sitting around this dump," she answered haughtily.

They strolled to the Merchant quarter where Sand led them to the Moonstone Mask. Dee looked at him inquiringly, and Sand explained, "I thought it would be better to have some things sent over here rather than traipsing from shop to shop, so I arranged one of the private rooms for our use. This way we gain the benefit of Ophala's judgement as well."

They were ushered into a private room upstairs with a broad, cool balcony that was screened for privacy. There were several comfortable chairs and a table along the wall laden with the delicacies that the Mask was known for--bite sized boar and veal, seafood, or bacon and kidney pies, skewers of the tiny fish known as silverflash, baby octopus with a herb-butter sauce, mushrooms in garlic sauce, sliced marinated carrots, scallions and fennel, blackberry and gooseberry tarts, a variety of sliced cheeses, and fresh strawberries dipped in Calimshan chocolate! Along with this was a good selection of wines, mead, and chilled ale, as well as minted water. There was even a bucket of fresh raw fish for Cillian. Elanee looked over the selection and gasped, "It's all so decadent!" She selected a few slices of carrot for herself, a tart for Naloth, and some water and found a seat with a view of the park.

They made a most unladylike attack on the buffet like they were starving. Dee went to pour herself a mug of mead, but Sand put his hand over the top of the goblet. "None for you, dear girl. You have to be sharp for tomorrow, and so do I. Try the minted water."

She muttered, "Fine," and stuck her tongue out at him and poured a them each a mug of water. She consoled herself by filling a plate of fish skewers, strawberries and the last few gooseberry tarts, which she knew were Sand's favorite. "I really need some raspberry leaf tea anyway. So what's the plan?"

Elanee put a hand on her shoulder and said, "Raspberry leaf? I should have guessed by how tense you are. I can see the puffyness around your eyes too. I'll get you some tea that's better than raspberry leaf." She glided silently out the door to the kitchen.

Qara sniffed, "I thought she was tense was because of the huge fight she had with Bishop this morning."

Dee suddenly regretted inviting Qara along and looked down, avoiding the eyes of her friends, who said nothing during the ensuing awkward silence but communicated in exchanged pitying glances.

Shandra stared off the balcony sipping some ale then jumped up and said quickly, "Oh, there's Captain Brelaina. I'll be right back, Dee!" She went out the door almost at a run as the others chuckled. She hadn't gotten far with Captain Brelaina, whose only passion seemed to be for furthering her own career, but she hadn't given up. She nearly collided in the doorway with Elanee returning with the tea and honey.

Some of Ophala's servants entered carrying in a few large boxes followed by Faelynaath, the Elven owner of the large and special size shop. Sand smiled at her and glided over and kissed her cheek. "Ah, here we are. Ophala will be along shortly, so why don't you show our little girl here what you brought?" He settled into a comfortable chair, smoothed out his robes, and sat back to watch with his fingers steepled under his chin.

Faelynaath unpacked a selection of large scarves in a variety of colors. "First off, we have to determine which color suits her best." She draped a hot pink scarf around Dee's shoulders. "No, that doesn't work at all." She followed with forest green, which had possibilities, then black, but Sand shook his head. "Pity, black is one of her best colors."

Sand sniffed, "We want her to appear the innocent victim that she is. Black just _screams_ 'guilty as charged! Save time and hang me now!'" As if to emphasize his point, Ophala entered followed by a few of her entertainers in their trademark diapanous black gowns. Sand sat forward and said, "Try white."

Faelynaath complied, draping Dee with white. Dee hated being on display like this, but it occurred to her it would get her in practice for tomorrow, so she bore with it and quietly sipped her tea. There was something that bothered her though. She sniffed the air. "What _is_ that smell? 'Tis like night blooming honeysuckle, but it's cloyingly sweet."

The elf paused and replied coolly, "That's a perfume I sell, _Darkest Desire_. It's five hundred an ounce, however. I don't usually wear it, I have taste. But it's a favorite with many of the Blacklake girls. A customer spilled it on my sales counter this morning, and I my nose hasn't recovered yet. I suppose some must have gotten on my gown too though I can't smell it. You have more taste than many of the city's debutantes."

Dee furrowed her brow. "Strange. I swear that's what I smelled on Bish, but not at five hundred an ounce. And why would he be wearin' women's perfume anyway?"

Sand, Ophala, and Neeshka exchanged knowing glances and Neeshka noticing Qara's mouth opening, squeaked, "Here, Qara, you have to try this!" and quickly shoved a strawberry in Qara's mouth before she could say anything. She leaned over and hissed, "Not a word!" Qara scowled at her and chewed the strawberry. Not that she needed to say anything, as it was beginning to dawn on Dee as well.

Sand changed the subject smoothly. "Yes yes, white is lovely. It brings out the light in her hair as well as black does without the negative connotations. We can't have her looking like a cut-purse." He ignored Neeshka's cry of protest. "Faelynaath, let's try some simple white gowns." Ophala murmured her agreement.

Distracted by the horror of the thought, Dee whined, "Saaaand, I told you no dresses. Why not a white shirt and leggings or a white tunic? I haven't worn a dress since I was five!"

Sand replied evenly, "My dear girl, you're whining like you're five. The idea is to make you look _less_ like a sell-sword. Besides, how do you know you don't like gowns if you haven't worn one in fifteen years, hmmm? Now will you be ruled by me?"

She sat back and sighed deeply and said "Fine, I will be ruled. I'll wear a dress. But nothing too frilly."

Ophala said brightly, "Oh, I know just the thing." She whispered to Faelynaath, who nodded and swished gracefully out of the room. "Now what were you thinking for her hair? Certainly not that braid. I don't understand why you don't wear it up, my dear." She swayed across the room and unbraided Dee's hair then ran her fingers through it while whispering a short incantation.

Dee felt a tingling sensation and pulled away in alarm. "What are you doing?"

Ohpala pulled her back into the chair with a surprisingly strong grip for a woman her age and muttered, "Don't make me use a 'Hold' spell on you, child. Don't move, you'll destroy the effect I'm trying to create. It's a cantrip called 'Paint.' It is used to change the color of nearly anything, even your eyes, and all my girls learn to use it to make themselves up."

Dee grinned. "So that's why your entertainers always look perfect."

Ophala said, "Sand thought I should add some silver streaks to your hair, just a subtle touch, and I'll add just a hint of color on your cheeks and lips and give you an overall glow. The effect lasts for about a month, so Sand can dispel it after the trial if you wish." She coiled Dee's hair around the top of her head. "Lovely. It's like a crown with the streaks I added."

Dee answered softly and looked down at the floor, "I may not be here long enough to worry about it. I hate to admit it, but sometimes I still think I should have taken Bish up on his offer to run off with him."

Neeshka almost choked on her wine. "He said that? You two should run away?"

Dee shrugged. "Yeah, he did, and I'm ashamed to admit to was ready to take him up on it. I was getting pretty desparate." Only Neeshka truly knew how desparate. "But I wasn't too sure he was serious anyway because he brought up how Casavir would disaprove when I agreed. Besides, the more I thought about it, the more I saw I couldn't let you all down, and I couldn't live with the shame either."

Sand stood and gave her an uncharacteristic hug. "I think we all can trust that you'll do the right thing, dear girl. Don't worry about the trial, we have plenty of evidence, and I've found a way out even if Torio Claven has bribed the entire town of Port Llast to testify against you. So don't let your ranger keep you up all night tonight having wild, lusty sex. You need your rest!"

Dee flushed scarlet and Ophala sat beside her and took her face in her hands. "Perfect! I want to do something with your natural coloring. Now be still, or I will use that 'Hold' spell." Sand came closer to watch, followed by Neeshka, Elanee, and even Qara, whose curiosity at a practical use for magic other than blowing things up got the better of her. Neeshka raised an eyebrow and started to speak, but Sand grabbed her tail and gave her a warning look.

Faelynaath entered just then carrying a bag, which she opened and produced a long, simple white robe. "I hope this will do."

Dee looked from her to Sand. "That looks like a cleric's robe. Sand, I can't pretend I'm a cleric!"

Sand waved a finger at her. "My dear, you said you would be ruled by me. It's not a cleric's robe, but it is the same style worn by acolytes at the temples of the good dieties. Now be a good girl and try it on behind that screen. Besides, you and your ranger can use it to play 'priestess and penitent' later after you win the trial. He seems the sort who would enjoy being disciplined for his sins."

Dee gasped, "Sand!" and flushed even deeper when Neeshka giggled loudly.

Ohpala stepped back to admire her work. "Perfect, if I do say so myself. My dear, I think you're ready."

It was well into the evening by the time they returned to the Flagon. Bishop wasn't in the common room, and Dee smiled to think he was probably waiting for her sprawled across her bed. Something was troubling her, and as much as she tried to strangle the thought or lock it away in a deep closet in her mind, it still managed to escape to plague her. What was he doing on his hunting trips that left him smelling of perfume? She didn't want to think about it, but there it was, and it certainly explained his jealousy. She tried to will the thought away. She told herself he cared for her, because the alternative was...So was it all a sham?

She passed Casavir in the hall and smiled at him. "Going to the temple at this hour?" There was still the awkwardness between them, but she was working to mend their torn friendship.

He smiled back softly. "As a matter of fact, I am. I've organized a prayer vigil on your behalf."

She was taken aback. "That's very kind of you, Cas. I greatly appreciate your prayers." She flushed with shame at the way the others joked about him and the way Bishop talked to him.

"It's not kindness, my lady. It's simply what must be done." He gave her a odd look as he stepped away that made her check to make sure she hadn't forgotten to lace her tunic.

Dee reached her room and opened the door, but he wasn't inside. He must still be mad. She looked around the room and noticed right away that Bishop had cleaned up her mess before he left. He can't be too mad then, but where is he? She draped the gown over the back of her chair and pulled off her clothes and dropped them in the laundry basket, and then she noticed that some clothes that had been on the bottom were now at the top. "If he's takin' my small clothes again..." she muttered. But nothing was missing. The thought ocurred to her that he was checking her things. She curled up beside Cillian on the floor and buried her face in his fur.

A few hours later she awoke to the sound of someone opening her door and Cillian growling. She blinked at a familar backlit form standing in the doorway. "Bish? Where have you been? I was hoping we could spend the evening together."

Karnwyr padded over for his ear scratching before taking his usual place. She stood and put her arms around him and gave him a kiss, but she sniffed him too. "Gods," she thought, "Have we come to the point where we don't trust each other?" She didn't smell that sweet scent, but the thought wouldn't leave her alone.

He shrugged. "I didn't make any promises. Karnwyr and I went fishing. I didn't feel like being in this filthy city today." He picked her up and kissed her and tossed her on the bed. "But I'm here now." He peeled off his clothes and tossed them on the floor.

She sat up and watched him and bit her lip nervously. It was now or never; she had to know where she stood with him, so she did what was becoming more natural with him every day. She lied. "Bish, Neesh and I got everything ready."

"Hmmm?," he murmured as he sat beside her and started kissing her. "What's ready?"

She whispered, "The escape, like we talked about? We got it all planned. If I'm found guilty, she got me a small lockpick that I can keep in my mouth to pick my shackles. Then I use this _Dust of Disappearance_ and slip into the sewers. She'll be waiting for me, and by the time it wears off, I'll be out of the city. Get my pack and meet me by the pond where we camped. I hope you have that hidden trail already picked out." It amazed her how fast the lie came to her. Was it her imagination, or did he look nervous?

He sat back and stared at her. "I thought you were going to keep your options open? Besides, weren't you worried about what all your friends would think of you?" He never would have suspected this was what she and the devil girl were up to. She was right before, they would become outlaws, him as much as her. It was one thing to take out the back alley trash under cover of darkness and slip away quietly. It was another thing to become the accomplice of a convicted criminal. In his wildest dreams he had never expected her to agree. She gave him a sorrowful that made him feel like dirt, and he hated her for it.

"I guess you're right, Bish. I suppose I'll have to trust Nasher will see the truth. Do you mind if we just lie together tonight and and you hold me? I still don't feel well, and I'm not in the mood for anything else."

He leaned her back on the bed and resumed kissing her. She was going to pay for making him feel rotten like this. "Not a problem. I'm in the mood enough for both of us."


	12. The Trial

Chapter 12 The Trial

Dee awoke after a surprisingly restful sleep. She shook her head, stretched and wondered what exactly Elanee had put into her tea. Those druids and their herbs. Bishop mumbled something in his sleep and grabbed at her as she disentangled herself from the sheet and his grasp. She parted the thick, coarse curtains enough to see out and saw that Lathander had just kissed the eastern sky. Wrapping up in a towel, she grabbed her clothing which was lying over the back of the chair and pack stuffed with books and tiptoed out the door to the bath. She sent Cillian back to Meilikki's care; if she wasn't allowed to bring a weapon, she certainly couldn't bring a large brown bear to Castle Never.

After a quick bath she pulled her hair into a high braid and pinned it in a coil on the crown of her head, but a few wayward tendrils escaped. She slipped a feather soft silk chemise over her shoulders followed by the white robe, but she felt awkward and half dressed. Could she even fight in this get-up if she had to? At least it was roomy enough in the shoulders. She flexed anyway then tried a kick. It occurred to her that this was one reason women wore them slit high on the sides. Her stomach gave a nagging rumble, but Sand would have a hissy fit if she spilled something on the robe. Then again, it might be a long time before she got to eat, and she knew better than to go into a battle on an empty stomach. She grabbed her pack and headed to the common room.

Shandra came upon her in the hallway and gave her a hug. "You ready? How do you feel?"

Dee shrugged and held her arm out in front of her. "Oddly calm, see? Ready as I'm gonna be." She leaned closer and whispered, "I'm just afraid this isn't the best day for a white robe."

Shandra chuckled sympathetically. "Trust a man not to think of that. Just wear your summer Watch cloak over your robe."

Dee glanced back towards her room. "Yeah, good idea, but I don't want to wake Bish up. He might make me miss breakfast, or worse, make me late to my trial."

"You could just tell him 'no,' Dee. Don't worry, I'll go get it for you then," Shandra replied. "Shouldn't he getting up anyway if he's going with us? I'll make sure he's awake while I'm there." She actually intended to give the bed a hard kick and smiled evilly at the prospect as she turned away towards Dee's room. Dee continued to the lure of the smell of frying bacon from the common room.

Shandra quietly opened Dee's door, stepped inside, and grabbed the cloak hanging on a peg on the wall then turned towards the bed. Maybe she could just throw something at him. Where was a bucket of ice water when you needed one though?

Bishop stirred and sat up peering at her. "Dee? Come back to bed, wench! Oh, it's _you_," he said, disappointment clear in his voice. "Where's Dee? I wanted to _relax _her before the trial. "

Shandra rolled her eyes and took a step backwards towards the door. "Well she doesn't have time to _relax_. We're leaving right after she has breakfast, and you better get moving too if you're going with us."

Bishop leaned back against the headboard with his arms behind his head, which he knew showed off his chest to best advantage. He looked her over and drawled seductively, "I could help _you_ relax then. Or better yet, why don't you come back with us tonight and help us celebrate after the trial. I've seen the way you look at Dee sometimes. Don't worry, I just want to watch. I won't touch you unless you want me to, but I'm thinkin' I could show you what you've been missing." He let the sheet fall aside to give her a sample.

Shandra took a deep breath and bit back the furious retort that sprang to mind for the sake of her friend, wishing that there was some way she could tell Dee without hurting her or distracting her from the trial. "Thanks Bishop, but I'll just have to stay tense." She bolted to the door. She would deal with it later, but she _would_ tell her. She wouldn't be much of a friend otherwise. She'd get together with Neeshka later and come up with a plan.

"Yeah, run away, dyke. Ten inches is too much for you to handle I guess," Bishop shouted after her adding a cruel laugh as he got up and looked around on the floor for his clothes.

Shandra heard him as the door slammed behind her and snorted. "Ten inches...in his dreams."

Meanwhile, Khelgar grunted a barely intelligible greeting at Dee as she took a seat at his table between shoveling heaping spoonfuls of food into his mouth with one hand and picking at stray bits escaping into his beard with the other hand. Dee smiled wryly and considered how someone might think it was _his_ last meal. Neeshka, bleary-eyed, waved with her tail as she sipped some tea, steadying the mug with both hands. More of Elanee's herbs, no doubt.

Duncan brought Dee over a bowl of barley porridge and raspberries and a plate of bacon and eggs, while Elanee brought her a steaming mug of tea. "Drink this, Dee. It will keep you sharp."

Dee raised an eyebrow at her as she took the mug. "Thanks, El. I'm not even going to ask what's in it, but I'll take your word for it." Elanee winked and sat across from her picking daintily at her berries and watching Dee eat. When she first learned that Elanee had been watching her since childhood, Dee thought it was rather creepy, but the more she thought about it, she realized that it was no different than some of the spying she was asked to do for the Harpers. Elanee was just spying for her circle. Neeshka called Elanee 'the stalker' behind her back for a while, but after Dee had time to think about it, she wondered if Elanee hadn't developed a sort of sisterly, or even maternal feeling towards her over the years. There certainly had been times when she felt someone was watching over her protectively when she was traipsing through the swamp. Dee thought wistfully that she would have welcomed Elanee's friendship if she had made herself known to Dee when she was a child. She would have made a pleasant foil to Daeghun's grim, dutiful parenting. It occurred to her that Daeghun might not have been so grim if Elanee had been around.

* * *

After Sand arrived they began a solemn procession to the castle. Only Grobnar was his usual animated self; nothing could faze him. Duncan had dressed in his best (which meant least stained) tunic, removed his apron, and left Sal in charge at the tavern to take his rightful place as her kinsman at the head of the procession. Even Qara came along though on any other day she wouldn't have been up for hours, and Dee wasn't sure if she was coming to cheer her on or to watch her fall. People on the streets grew silent as they passed, and a few pointed and whispered. Several Watchmen greeted her as she passed and wished her luck. Almost no one spoke except Dee and Sand, who took her arm and whispered last minute strategies, and Neeshka and Shandra, who hung back and whispered about other things. Bishop scowled as he followed behind Dee, making a mental note that the next thing he had to work on was isolating her from that pansy mage.

Casavir met them near the temple of Tyr looking exhausted yet serene, and Dee flushed as she realized he had indeed been up praying for her all night. Dee excused herself to Sand and walked up to Casavir, though she had caught Bishop's scowl and could feel him staring daggers into her back. She ignored him. His jealousy was becoming tiring...more than that, exhausting, and he wasn't going to tell her which friends she could have. She said softly, "I just wanted to thank you for your prayers, Cas. I feel more at peace this morning, and I think they're responsible."

He smiled shyly, his blue eyes moist, and replied, "Think nothing of it, m'lady. Your cause is just, and it was the least I could do. I regularly include you and our companions too in my daily prayers." He blushed and looked down.

She took his hand and squeezed it. This was the most she had been able to talk to him since that fight over Bishop; she had missed his wisdom and even more his dry humor. It seemed like he saved that facet of his personality for her, just as Grobnar saved his calm, thoughtful, rational side just for her too. "As do I, Cas, though I doubt my prayers are as fervent as yours. Could you do me a favor?"

He leaned closer and replied softly, "If it is in my power, m'lady, you need but ask."

She turned her head to meet his eyes and whispered, "I know you...dislike him, but it would be a burden off my mind if you included Bish in your prayers." She hesitated, then whispered with her voice faltering, "He's....faithless, Cas. I've tried to talk to him, but he just mocks me, so all that's left is to pray for him, and I think Tyr listens to you."

Casavir suppressed a sigh and replied, "I will do that for you and for him." He gave a silent prayer of thanks to Tyr. He hadn't understood how she could have chosen to be with someone like Bishop, but now he could see the gods hands in it. He had seen many people brought to faith through the devotion of a good man or woman.

* * *

The trial was to be held in the grand hall of Castle Never. Dee raised an eyebrow at the crowd as they entered. The galleries were already filling with spectators when they arrived, even though it was early yet. Bishop wasn't kidding about this being one of the social events of the season. Dee exchanged last-minute hugs with her friends, who went to find a seat. She and Sand were ushered in to the Grand Hall after their packs were searched, and guards with halberds crossed barred the door after them. Dee swallowed hard but strode in with her back straight and head held high. She unpacked her books and unrolled her notes and Sand did the same. With her hair up, the white robe and the spectacles and a table piled high with books and papers, Dee gave appeared to be more of a young scholar rather than an accused murderer. One would have thought she was one of Aldanon's research assistants.

Torio Claven and her retainers entered a few minutes later and took their place at their own table after being searched. Sand leaned over and hissed an aside loudly enough to be heard and provoke snickers in the first row, "Oh my, I certainly hope Torio has just come from turning tricks in the dockside alleys and that's not what passes for fashion in Luskan. And gods, with those shoes..." he shook his head and tsked sadly. "What was she thinking?" Dee barely suppressed a chuckle at the thought that it wouldn't have been so easy to convince Bishop Sand was gay if he didn't act like it. Not that she would _ever_ tell him that.

Torio shot Sand an acidic glare then gave Dee that appraising look women usually reserve for romantic rivals. She sneered, muttered something that sounded like "the little viper with his pet ogress" then turned away and opened her own notes.

A tall, skinny herald entered and with a surprisingly loud voice that boomed around the chamber called the assembly to order. They all stood as a fanfare blared and Lord Nasher entered, followed closely by Sir Nevalle then his other retainers and guards. After he sat on his throne they all took their seats. Dee hardly heard the opening remarks from Torio as she looked again through the evidence they had found--the Quartermaster's log, the bit of skin from one of the victims, the signet ring, and the alteration powder. Most of it was circumstantial though. Torio didn't have much evidence other than Alaine, but Sand said a tearful eyewitness could overrule everything they had gathered and all Dee's character witnesses. The only time she and Sand had ever had harsh words between them had been when he suggested they try to use Alaine. Dee forced her face into a mask of gravity but smiled inside. They had Marcus; Sand had made sure the boy had arrived and had kept him sequestered at the temple of Tyr, and no one besides them and Prior Hlam knew it.

Sand presented their evidence, and the crowd murmured after he introduced each item. She leaned over and whispered, "That's good, right?"

Torio called Alaine as expected, but Dee was able to get her to admit during her cross-examination that the murderer might have been someone who was disguised to look like her, and admit further that none of Dee's companions was there--not one of the killers was an elf, a dwarf, a gnome, a tiefling, a paladin of Tyr, or a even a large bear. At least they were safe from Torio's accusations. Dee questioned her closely about the type of weapon the leader of the assassination squad used, and Alaine admitted the person used a great two-handed sword, not a long sword and short sword. Dee turned to Lord Nasher and asked evenly, "Is it plausible that I would leave the city with none of my companions to hire a dozen brigands somewhere? Why would I forgo my accustomed weapons and fighting style? Any warrior knows that makes no sense." She glanced around as she took her seat and noted that everyone who was trained to use a melee weapon murmured and nodded in agreement.

Torio grilled Shandra and tried to twist her words but couldn't make her crack. Then in a surprising move she called Dee to the stand. Dee raised an eyebrow at Sand, who shrugged. Torio smirked as she asked, "I only have one question. Why did you murder the village of Ember?"

Dee took a deep breath to control the urge to throttle her and asked, "Indeed, what possible reason would I have? However, I suppose I gave Luskan a good reason frame me for it, so I don't have to ask why you or your master murdered the village of Ember?"

Torio appeared unfazed and retorted, "Well then, can you account for your activities on the 23rd of Kythorn? Do you deny you left the city without your companions two days before that day?"

Dee gasped. She had known roughly when the murders took place, but hadn't made the connection between that and her holiday with Bishop. She answered, "I don't deny it at all, but I wasn't alone. I went camping with my man up by Galena Creek."

Torio asked in a sickeningly sweet tone, "Oh, your _man_? Don't you mean _accomplice_? And there were _no_ witnesses, of course. I have it on good authority that you have been seen sneaking out your window several times for clandestine meetings with shadowy figures in dark alleys. Couldn't that have been when you hired your assassins?"

Dee was getting tired of the way this wench twisted everything she said. She kept her eyes on Sand who directed her with subtle gestures and movements. She knew they had been spying on her, but she never realized it had gone on for that long or to this extent with her none the wiser. There was nothing to do. "I can explain that." She sighed and reached into her belt pouch and withdrew her silver Harpers pin. She held it up high so everyone could see the distinctive harp shape before she continued. "I've been following the activities of your master Black Garius and the King of Shadows and passing on what I found. And Bish and I were quite alone on the 23rd of Kythorn except for the bear and the wolf. I expect you could get a druid to translate if you want to question them though. The whole point of leavin' the city was to get some privacy."

Torio scolded, "Oh I don't doubt that you needed privacy to carry out your heinous crime! You expect the court to believe that you were simply camping?"

Dee replied angrily, "We were! We're rangers, and there's only so much city livin' that we can stand. But we also needed to be alone...together. Gods woman, are you really that dense, or has it been so long since you've been with a man that you cared about that you don't remember what that's like? What do you think we were doing there?"

She could feel herself flushing to her ears, which wasn't helped by someone in the gallery calling out, "I sure know what I'd be doing with her." Bishop laughed and called out, "The 23rd of Kythorn? Hells, I don't think we even bothered getting dressed that day," which brought lewd laughter and a few slaps on the back from some of the men in the gallery seated near him, and an angry scowl from a skinny blonde with a long nose and narrow, fox-like eyes who had been sitting next to him and promptly got up in a huff. Dee looked her over and her heart sunk; she didn't even have to get near her to know she wore too much _Darkest Desire. _But she had other things to worry about now.

The lewd comments from some of the men was followed by the old Biddie chorus. One venerable matron chimed in with "Gracious, it sounds like they were on their honeymoon...except they didn't bother with the wedding, and she's going to have a hard time getting him to buy the cow now that he's had the milk for free," which brought more chuckles and nods of assent from others around her. Another one chirped sagely, "But how can you blame the lass with a fine strapping lad like that? They're young, and that's what young people do." Dee looked down, feeling a burning blush spreading to her ears and the roots of her hair. She wasn't overly modest, but having her sex life on public display was too much. A low murmur swelled around the room like a wave. Someone said, "Look at her face! Can you see those marks?" Someone else replied, "She must have Celestial blood. No wonder those Luskan devils want to destroy her!"

Dee put a hand up to her temple wishing there was a mirror in the hall and gave Sand a puzzled look. What had Ophala done to her? She could feel a tingling where Ophala had 'painted' her, and somehow blushing made it worse! Sand steepled his long delicate fingers under his chin and smiled mysteriously.

Lord Nasher finally called out in exasperation, "Silence, or I'll have the gallery cleared! I believe we all get the picture even if the Luskan ambassador does not. Let's get on with this!"

Dee gasped then said loudly, "My Lord! I just remembered, there is proof! Bishop shot a black headed elk while we were there. It's a rare breed that's found only in that range, and we had the head mounted when we got back on the 25th, the day I first heard about the accusation from Sir Nevalle. My Lord, the taxidermist can be called to verify this! There's no way we could have gotten all the way to Ember, then to Galeena Creek, and back to the city before the 25th." She looked at Torio and said crispy, " Now do you have any other ridiculous questions, or may I start my defense?"

Torio replied with a sneer, "No, though I suppose you could have teleported to Ember." She knew how this ridiculous supposition weakened her case though, so she finished with, "I reserve the right to call you again."

Dee stood and began reciting a short account of her arrival with the shard and her recruitment by Cormick, including her run-ins with the members of the Shadow cult. She glanced at the galleries and saw that many people were listening intently. She followed this with a longer account of the history of the relations between Neverwinter and Luskan, stopping to cite quotes from the books spread on her table and referring to her notes. Now more people looked bored, but she continued anyway. She was treading dangerous ground here because she didn't know if Lord Nasher would think she was accusing him of using her as a pawn in Neverwinter's continuous conflict with Luskan.

She called her witnesses--Nya the herbalist, Callum, then finally Marcus, the child seer from Ember. She could tell from Torio's smug look that she thought Dee and Sand had committed a fatal error in presenting their weakest witness last, but the look of terror on Torio's face as Marcus described her tenuous relationship with Black Garius was deeply disturbing, and anyone who saw her knew he spoke the truth. His testimony spawned more whispers in the gallery.

They rested their case, and Lord Nasher returned his verdict in less than half an hour. Dee wondered later if it really took him that long, or if he just made a show of deliberation. Innocent of all charges. Torio Claven and her associates to be expelled from the city. The gallery erupted in cheers and Dee was laughing and hugging Sand when she heard Torio exclaim, "I demand the right to trial by combat! Justice must be served!"

Dee broke away as Sand exclaimed, "That banshee! How did she know about that?"

"Didn't you know about it? I read about it in Gorrick's _History of Neverwintan Justice_," Dee replied frankly. "It's not used very often though."

Sand whispered, "Of course I knew about it. I told you I had a contingency plan, dear girl. I never would have guessed that she did, however. I can't imagine that she will try to take you on herself, so she probably has one of her henchmen picked out as her champion."

Dee paled as his words sunk in, and she wasn't at all surprised when I familiar voice shouted seconds later, "I will be her champion for the dead of Ember."

Sand's head snapped around to see the speaker, and he asked, "Who is that brute? Those facial tattoos mark him as belonging to a Luskan assassin squad."

Dee answered quietly without even looking, "His name is Lorne Starling. He's a Harborman too, and his little brother was my best friend. And from what the dryad in the Duskwood said, he's the real murderer." She barely heard Lord Nasher's instructions that they be taken to the temple of Tyr to begin a vigil with the duel taking place the next day at dawn.

Sand patted her hand. "Don't worry, my dear, you're allowed to choose a champion as well. I'm sure Casavir or Khelgar would gladly take your place."

Dee sighed. "I'm not worried. Not much, anyway. I'm just thinkin' about how I'm goin' to tell his ma. Let's get out of here so I can talk to Cormick about how he beat Lorne."

* * *

Shandra and Casavir were dispatched to the Flagon with Duncan to get her armor and swords while Dee talked to Cormick at the Watch office. "The silver longsword with the ebony handle, and the mithril short sword, the one Elanee blessed," she told them firmly. Other than this, she hardly spoke a word as she entered the temple accompanied by Sir Grayson and Sir Nevalle. She would have sent Bishop, but she was afraid he would have brought her duskwood bow and no swords at all. One of their more frequent arguments involved their fighting styles, with both considering the other's fighting style flawed. She could see the point of softening her opponents up first with arrows then finishing them off, especially now that she could see them before they were right on top of her, but this was tournament fighting, Lorne was faster than he looked, and she might not have time to switch weapons.

Prior Hlam gave her instructions then asked her friends to leave. "Go on, I'll be fine," she told them, and they filed out reluctantly. She was about to enter the meditation chamber when Khelgar burst in and began a long rant about the injustice and offered to fight in her place. Dee exchanged glances with Hlam as both realized he had met the last of the requirements to begin training as a monk. Dee whispered to Hlam, "I don't even think he realizes it, but if I'm not around, please see to it he starts his training."

She entered the chamber and sat on the cold stone floor before the statue of Tyr as Khelgar was ushered out, wondering what exactly she was supposed to get out of staying awake all night before taking part in a duel to the death. What was it Hlam said? Something about reflecting on one's deeds...achieving clarity to admitting one's guilt. She snorted. " Yeah, that's a good one. Like I'm the guilty one."

She was sitting there trying not to doze off in spite of the cold, hard slate floor when she heard someone enter the chamber. She knew at once it was Sand from the swish of his robes. It was surreal; he was almost jubilant about defeating Torio. Dee was about to mutter, "Yeah, excuse me if I don't share your joy" when he handed her a few potions to get her through. He squeezed her shoulder and mumbled something about no thanks needed, about the closest he came to a display of affection; she grabbed him in a bear hug by way of thanks, and he blushed and excused himself.

The evening wore on with no other visitors, and she had resigned herself to Bishop not coming at all and had dozed off again when she heard a familiar voice behind her say, "It's just a statue, you know. Tyr isn't watching this, but I am."

She jerked upright as Bishop came up and dropped to his haunches behind her. He slipped his arms around her and kissed her neck. Dee turned her head and said, "I was beginning to wonder if you were coming."

He pulled her into a deep kiss then broke off and looked around. "I don't suppose there's a room we can use, sweetheart?"

She chuckled. "Here? The only private place is the privy, and I'm not doing it in there! Besides, I've heard a couple of acolytes are checking on me every so often. So is this your way of comforting me, or are you here to offer to fight in my place too?"

He snorted, and there was something in his eyes that unnerved her before he hastily looked away. He covered with his usual sarcasm, "I wouldn't insult you like that. If you need comfort, you're weaker than I thought. I came to give you advice on dealing with Lorne tomorrow."

She replied as she leaned back against him, "Thanks. I'm listening. What do you think of my chances?"

Karnwyr came up on the other side of her and lay his head in her lap so she could stroke his head. Bishop leaned so close she could feel his breath on her ear as he spoke. "Your chances? Not much. I don't think you're going to make it."

She turned her head to look directly into his amber eyes. "Thanks for the vote of confidence, Bish, though I plan to live to prove you wrong."

He looked away and gazed at the floor. "I don't want to get bored tomorrow, sweetheart, so listen up. I've been watching Lorne all evening. He's barely keeping it together at the best of times. I could tell he wanted to fight you right then and there, which is not the sign of someone in control. He's a melee fighter, too much in love with that falchion of his too much to fight _smart_, so you'll have to keep your distance and wear him down."

She stroked Karnwyr's fur even as she bristled at the veiled insult. "Good thing I don't fight smart either then. I know all about his fighting style and his bad temper from Cormick. In truth, I could tell you stories about his temper. Anything else?"

He continued to look around at anything but her eyes. What did she want from him? He could get himself killed for her, and would she appreciate it? He bet that within a month she would be sharing someone else's bed. "He doesn't like to be weighed down with armor either. He fancies himself a barbarian."

She chuckled darkly and gestured at her studded leather armor lying in a bag next to the door. "Unlike us?"

He ran a hand through his hair. "Yeah, point taken. Just keep hitting him and hitting him, and at some point he'll go berserk, and that's when you can get him. Just don't get _weak_ and show him any mercy. He's not going to spare you, not after all Luskan went through to get you."

She sighed. "Thanks, Bish. Anything else you want to say to me? Any last words?"

He swallowed trying to lubricate his throat. What did she expect? Honeyed words? That wasn't his style. This was her fight. She's the squire, the do-gooder. This fight wasn't his style either. His chest felt tight, and he took a deep breath. He wanted to see that Luskan pig dead. He just didn't want to get killed trying to take him out. His internal struggle went on for a few minutes until he said curtly, "I might do it, and I might not. Ask me before the fight, and if so, I'll step in."

She slipped her arms around him and gave him a final soft kiss then held his face in her hands to force him to look at her. "If you don't kill Lorne, and..." she was thinking "and he kills you." She didn't say it, but the words hung unspoken in the air between them. "I'll hang anyway. I appreciate the offer though, and if I change my mind, I'll send you word in the morning. Goodbye, Bish."

He gave her another kiss secretly feeling relieved. He knew her well enough to know she wouldn't send for him. She had that look of grim determination in her eyes. "Try to get some sleep, sweetheart. Don't stay up all night talking to the statue. No one's listening."

She scoffed as he padded out with Karnwyr following. "According to you." She turned to face the statue so she wouldn't have to watch him leave. She closed her eyes and tried to pray but immediately stopped. Was it sacrilege praying to Meilikki in Tyr's house? Would he strike her down or would he understand and forgive her? She sighed deeply and summoned Cillian. Something about having that bear around made it easier to think.

He lay beside her and she buried her face in his fur. "Oh Cill, this isn't fair. Why did the gods lay this on me? I don't know if I'm strong enough."

Cillian chuffed and nuzzled her.

"I know, love. I'm glad you're here for the fight in the morning. Don't attack him, just keep him off me if he hits me hard until I can drink a potion. But don't get yourself hurt protecting me. He's _my_ prey."

She gazed up at the statue. What was it Prior Hlam had said? She had only half listened to his words. 'Gaze upon the face of Tyr, and let him gaze upon you.' She stared at the statue until her eyes watered. There was something else, about not fearing his judgment if she was true to her words and deeds. Well, she _had_ been true. Her words to Sand came back to haunt her then--"Anything you can do to tip the odds is fine by me." But all he had done was give her a couple of potions, so what was false in that...besides her attitude. She sighed. It was_ his _house. Surely Mielikki would understand her calling on him.

She closed her eyes and asked, "Why is this happening to me, Lord Tyr? I've tried to do what's right. I'm just a girl from West Harbor. I didn't ask for any of this." Where was the justice for her? Her mother taken from her when she was so young, her loveless childhood... she stopped, disgusted with herself and wiped away an angry tear. But it was true, all of it, even if she was whining. 'Let him gaze upon you...' She took a few deep breaths, stilled her mind, and gazed upon the statue. After a few minutes of meditation, she grew impatient, stood up and stalked back and forth across the chamber with Cillian on her heels. What was the point of sitting here all night when she had a fight to the death in the morning? What was the point of any of it?

Dee sighed and sank to her knees. She reflected on her life. She had tried to be fair...except when it came to orcs. But they were filthy beasts who brought nothing but death and destruction in their wake. They came upon those wounded and dying orcs in their lair that day she met Casavir, and she wouldn't have hesitated to finish them all except he stayed her hand. But was that really being merciful? To him it was, but she would have given them a quick death to put them out of their misery.

And Casavir. He would gladly lay his life down for her. All he had done was offer friendship, with the hope of more. He was so shy, painfully so, and she should have seen it sooner. He had been harsh in his words, but he spoke the truth. He called it a tryst, and more and more in a thousand tiny ways it became clear that it _was_ just a tryst with Bishop, at least on his part. He only showed his feelings for her when he thought she was talking to some other male for too long, and gods forbid if she laughed while they were talking. And because Casavir spoke a truth she didn't want to hear, and because he was too shy to speak the truth of his feelings for her, she scorned him and mocked him behind his back. True, some of the others did too, but they followed her lead. She had been no friend to him and had treated him shamefully.

There was an image of an argument with Qara last week that came unbidden into her mind. But she had tried with Qara, she really had. Hadn't she? In truth, she offered her nothing much more than terse civility at the best of times. But she's a spoiled brat who cares little for ensuring her companions are out of range before hitting them with her fire spells, Dee argued. She almost burned down the tavern showing off her power and wasn't at all sorry about it. But Dee knew she also had lost her mother young and her father had been cold and distant, caring more for his books and his academy than for his daughter; they had that in common, and it should have created a bond between them. Wasn't it possible that she was a child who was given everything she needed or wanted except her father's love? Wasn't that a reason to extend her more friendship, more kindness, and more mercy, not less?

In truth, wasn't her protestations of righteousness simply self-righteousness? When she thought about it, there had been so many things she had done...her half-assed plan to kill Torio chief amongst them. Even Daeghun ...what did he owe her? Yeah, he had a duty borne of friendship to Esmerelle, but there were other ways he could have discharged it so he could disappear and let the swamp swallow his grief. She could have been turned over to an temple orphanage like Neeshka, or handed off to one of the farm families in West Harbor. And could she blame him for his coldness? Could it be he didn't know how to be a father or that he honestly didn't understand humans? His beloved wife was dead because of her. What comfort had Dee ever offered him?

And there was so much blood on her hands. How many times had she been quick to draw her swords and let them do the talking for her? She thought of the many fights she had making arrests for the Watch. But she always gave them the option to surrender. In truth, at times she hoped they would resist arrest. And how often were her actions dictated by how much mead she had drunk before she set out on patrol? Gods, what kind of a monster was she? How was she any different than Lorne? Burning tears came streaming down her cheeks, followed by loud sobs that wracked her body. Within minutes, Prior Hlam had been informed by one of the acolytes who checked on her from time to time, and despite the presence of the bear standing beside her nuzzling her, he knelt beside her with his arm around her. He held her protectively and let her cry until the sobs subsided enough for her to talk.

One of the acolytes entered eyeing the bear nervously and brought her a cup of water and a soft, damp cloth. Prior Hlam wiped her face like she was a child, held the cup for her to sip the water, then asked patiently, "Tell me what this is about, my child. I know you're not guilty of the crime you were accused of, but something is weighing heavy on you. Tyr is listening, as am I."

She gasped between sobs, "It's not just a statue."

He smiled and whispered gently, "No my child, that's a statue but Tyr is very real, and I sense that he has touched you."

She turned to look in his one good eye and said softly, "I'm innocent of that which I'm accused...but guilty of so much hate and wrath and...selfishness. Mercy and compassion are strangers to me...unless it suits my purpose. I'm no different than Lorne. I wonder that Tyr can stand to look on me."

He rubbed her back and replied softly, "My child, who among us isn't guilty of many of the things you accuse yourself of? Lord Tyr sees, he calls you to follow him, and he forgives if your heart is sincere and you truly wish to follow the path of justice. I believe he has given you a warning that you could turn down the same path that the Luskan has taken." He took his symbol of Tyr from around his neck and placed it around hers.

She held it up and looked at it. "But I follow Meilikki. Can I follow Tyr too?"

He smiled and replied, "Tyr would never expect you to abandon your faith, my child. He would only supplement it. Now come along, a room has been reserved for you. You should try to get some sleep."

Dee got to her feet shakily. "You mean I'm allowed to sleep?"

He laughed and replied, "What justice would there be in making you face this challenge without any rest? I just waited for your young man to leave before I told you so you would get some rest."

* * *

The fight seemed like a dream. Dee strode in with her head held high followed by Cillian and nodded to her friends in the stands. Neeshka and Shandra looked like they were doing their best to comfort Duncan, who was beside himself with grief. Khelgar raised his ax hopefully, but she shook her head. Casavir met her eyes, and she smiled and shook her head at him as well. He hadn't offered, but she knew she had only to ask and he would take her place. She scanned the huge crowd and finally found the chestnut hair she was looking for. Bishop looked grim but nervous too as he met her eyes. She shook her head and continued on, turning away before she would have to see the look of relief she knew was on his face. He was afraid, but he had a right to be, and if she was going to be with him, it meant accepting him for who he was.

She quickly drained the 'Haste' potion Sand had made her and tucked the 'Heal' potion into her belt but decided against the invisibility potion. She walked forward with Cillian to face Lorne in the center of the arena before Lord Nasher while he announced the terms of the duel. She was sorely tempted to mock Lorne, who glared down at her; the thoughts came easily to her mind, to mock his tattoos, ask if he shaved his head to hide his receding hairline, ask if he was compensating for something with that huge falchion, it was too easy. But in the end all she said was, "Your poor mother, Lorne. She would be _so_ ashamed if she knew what you were doing." That only served to enrage him and as he ranted about carving his name into her flesh while she still lived and all the other things he was going to do to her, she assessed his armor and weapons. Bishop was right; he was arrogant enough to think he didn't need much armor. He was wearing a wolf hide, but it was obviously worn more for style than for protection. That falchion was a wicked thing though. She could sense the evil radiating from it.

As they turned to return to their own end of the arena, the light of the sun coming over the edge of the arena wall struck Lorne's falchion and glinted across his neck. It couldn't be that easy. Dee whispered, "Thank you Tyr, and thank you Meilikki for understanding." She stood her ground as he turned and charged, and when he was nearly upon her, she charged too. When they came together, she sprang up and bounced against his right thigh for leverage. She blocked the swing of his falchion with her long sword as her left arm slipped under her right and slashed into his neck. She bounced off him and landed lightly and dodged to the side but felt his falchion deliver a glancing down her back. He was fast! She got him good though, judging from the blood flowing from his wound. It was a matter of wearing him down until he could feel it. She ran around the arena dodging his furious swings and curses until she felt him slowing then spun and hit him across his midsection.

Lorne dropped to one knee, but he remained arrogant even as he yielded. "You think you've won. Black Garius will come after you..." She didn't listen to the rest. She wanted to slaughter him like the pig he was. Dee's mind screamed, "Get up and fight, you coward." However, she surprised herself as much as everyone who knew her when she turned to Lord Nasher and announced, "The law has been served and justice delivered for the people of Ember." She whispered to Lorne, "I won't give you a quick, easy death," and turned her back on him and walked away even as Lord Nasher proclaimed her the victor. Cillian stared after her, puzzled at her leaving herself vulnerable, then he turned and watched Lorne until Dee was safely across the arena before he followed.

* * *

Dee knelt beside the chests delivered to the Flagon by Lord Nasher and examined the items inside. She waved off the mug of mead Neeshka brought her. The Luskan ambassadors had been sent packing, and Lord Nasher had demanded Lorne's falchion and an enchanted belt he wore as tribute for his being allowed to live. These had been delivered to Dee, along with an amulet from Nasher and a good quantity of gold. She divided the gold into piles for each of her companions equally, setting aside Khelgar's share with Duncan for when he returned from his training at the temple of Tyr, and included extra shares for Sand, who she now considered one of them, her uncle for putting up with them all, and another for the poorbox at the temple of Tyr. She ignored Bishop's snort of derision as she announced that.

Only Casavir refused his share. "I must live up to the example our leader has set for us and donate mine as well."

Bishop muttered "You're a fool then," and stalked to the bar with his share.

Dee handed Casavir the amulet. "Take this amulet. It enables the wearer to see through illusions, though I suppose some would say I should use it myself."

He took it from her and replied quietly, "Thank you, m'lady, though I believe you have less need of it lately."

Lorne's belt, which gave the wearer the strength of a giant, she kept for herself. She touched the falchion; it positively radiated evil, and she recoiled from the foul thing. She asked quietly, "Neesh, I need to sell this, and I don't want to burden Sand with it. Can you take it to Deekin? I need it to be sold as soon as possible."

Neshka swayed over and and picked it up. "Sure, Dee, but why the rush? Why don't you take a couple of days off and go camping again? You've earned it."

"I need the coin," Dee said grimly. "I'm leavin' for West Harbor at first light to give whatever I can get for it to Lorne's mother along with my share of Nasher's gold. I don't want her to hear what's become of him from anyone else."


	13. Revelations

Chapter 13 Revelations

Dee hoped to leave early for West Harbor, so she had gone to the docks looking for a ship heading south until she found one, _The Vigilance_, with a reputable captain who was a friend of Captain Flynn. It was setting sail at high tide the next afternoon. They would take the ship as far as Highcliff, where they would rent horses for the rest of the journey so they could get there and back as quickly as possible. Along the way she could leave warnings about the King of Shadows for Harper agents to get the word out to the towns and villages between Highcliff and West Harbor.

When she returned to the tavern, which was packed with people who wanted to congratulate her on her victory she found a celebration dinner featuring her favorite foods, even some of those fancy chocolate covered strawberries, that Duncan had lovingly prepared for her. He led her over to one of the long tables which had been reserved for her companions and seated her at the head of the table. Then he stood over her beaming as she ate, inquiring how each dish was. He had gone through so much trouble she ate a heaping plateful to please him, though the food seemed tasteless as ash to her and lay like a rock in her stomach.

The urge to drink herself to oblivion was that night nearly overwhelming so she refused the many drinks offered to her and stuck to Elanee's tea, but she relented and accepted a goblet of three-hundred-year-old _Elverquisst_ which Duncan had been saving for a special occasion. Duncan exclaimed after giving her a rib-cracking hug, "Seeing my niece cleared of all charges is as special as an occasion gets!" She banished the bitter taunting thought that Daeghun had never hugged her like that as she returned the hug and kissed his cheek. She had grown very fond of Duncan over the months since she arrived. Why had Daeghun kept such a wonderful uncle from her all her life? She already knew the answer to that--he was Daeghun's _brother_, a half-brother at that, and not her uncle, because she was only his foster daughter. She tried not to be bitter, yet there was much she thought he had to answer for when she saw him.

After the feast Khelgar departed with his rucksack for the temple of Tyr, Casavir escorting him to see him settled in; he was going to be away training to become a monk for some tendays, so it was probably just Bishop, Casavir, Shandra, Elanee, Grobnar, and Neeshka going with her to West Harbor. Dee asked Sand if he wanted to go, and he had looked at her with a sharply arched eyebrow and a bemused smile and replied, "As tempting as it is to see the swamp village which engendered you, dear girl, and it_ is _tempting, I believe I shall reluctantly decline. I've earned a rest." Qara also declined to go without even waiting to be asked.

Dee had just finished dinner when Wolf darted into the tavern. He was one of the half a dozen or so urchins who Dee had persuaded her uncle to allow to bunk in the attic in return for running errands and working in the scullery. He was a good lad, and she thought he had potential to make a good ranger, though Dee suspected he had already been forced to do some regrettable things to survive. Dee aimed to get his crew of orphans and runaways trained in some manner of respectable work if she had to pay for their apprenticeships herself to save them from being swept up into one of Axle's gangs, or worse. She had seen kids who looked to be his age already working in the cheap brothels near the docks.

He ran up to Dee as soon as he spotted her in the crowded tavern and exclaimed happily, "At last! There you are! Congratulations on the trial, by the way, miss. Everyone's talking about the beating you gave that Luskan." He paused and wiped his nose on his sleeve then added as an afterthought, "Oh yeah, an old man came to see you, what was his name, Alder something?"

Dee gasped and took him firmly by the shoulders. "You mean Aldanon? What about him? Has he sent word about the shards?"

Wolf shrugged as best he could in her grasp and replied nervously, "Umm yeah. He was by looking for you. Said he found out something them."

"When was this? Did he say anything else? It's very important that I know exactly what he said, so what do you remember?," Dee asked firmly.

He scratched his head and thought about it for a maddening length of time, and she waited impatiently for his reply. "Yesterday midday, and he said exactly, 'I've learned something about her shards,' but I told him everyone said you weren't finished with the trial and had to fight the Luskan on the morrow and so you was up at the temple. He said he was goin' home and he would meet you there after you defeated the Luskan. I asked him why he didn't go meet you at the arena, but he said he had no taste for bloodsport. Then Sal had me busy making some deliveries and running errands, and when I got back, you weren't around 'til now. "

Dee replied with a disappointed sigh as she released her grip on him and ruffled his hair, "'Tis alright, lad. Thanks, and here's something for you." She handed him a silver piece, and he grinned at her and ran off. "There's probably no point in walking all the way up there at this hour," she murmured to Cillian as she stood and walked over to where Sand was sitting with Elanee, sat beside him and asked diplomatically, "Sand? Did you hear that? I could really use your...assistance in making sense of what Aldanon's learned."

Sand had remained to help finish the exquisite bottle of _Elverquisst_, still amazed that a half-human oaf like Duncan had the good taste, not to mention the good sense, to acquire it. He twirled the goblet in his long, delicate fingers, mesmerized by the way the colors swirled in the glass as he savored the first taste. He tore his eyes away long enough to look up at her and replied silkily, "You mean you need my skill in making sense of his mad rambling, so of course I will go with you, dear girl. Someone needs to be there who can understand him, though I suppose you could simply have Grobnar translate. Between the two of them something should emerge that would make sense, though they might drive you mad in the process."

Grobnar heard his name spoken and looked up from where he had been composing a ballad commemorating the duel, much to Dee's dismay. "A visit to Master Aldanon? Oh, I look forward to it!"

Dee chuckled. "Thanks, Sand. I don't think he could have found out anything important though, or surely he would have come back by now or sent one of his apprentices, or at least left a note."

Sand broke away from his wine long enough to reply, "It is Aldanon we're talking about. A normal person _would_ have left a note or sent a lackey to wait with the information so you wouldn't be worried needlessly."

She put her arm around him and gave him an affectionate squeeze then kissed his cheek. Sand was another one she had grown very fond of over the past few months. He had become something of an unofficial uncle, which was mildly disturbing when she considered the amount of harmless flirting they used to do. "Thanks, my dear friend. I knew I could count on you. There's no way in ten lifetimes I could ever repay you for what you've done for me already, you know. I'll meet you at his mansion after the morning prayer service."

He blushed to the pointed tips of his ears and smiled at her. "Anything for you, dear girl." He smiled at her fondly as she walked off then leaned close to Elanee to whisper, "Did she say she's going to morning prayers?"

Elanee replied wide-eyed, "That's what I was about to ask you!"

Dee sipped her wine slowly as she walked away. The flavor was incredible, and each drop demanded her full attention; it seemed..._alive_, there was no other word for it, and she let it roll around her mouth a few times savoring the different tastes and sensations before she reluctantly swallowed it. She saw Bishop sitting at his favorite table quaffing his fifth mug of ale (not that she was counting she told herself, but the evidence was there on the table), and all alone but for Karnwyr.

She felt a pang of guilt for leaving him alone, so she strolled over to him and leaned over to kiss his neck. She wrinkled her nose at an acrid smell, and it wasn't sweat--she liked the smell of his sweat. "What is that? Gods, he needs a bath," she thought, but then she had a better idea. She nuzzled his stubbled cheek and whispered seductively, "Missed you, sweetheart. I'm going to get a bath before I go to bed. Want to come along and wash my back and I'll wash yours, and you can show me where else you're dirty." Karnwyr stood and stretched and walked up next to her so she could scratch his head. She sniffed Karnwyr wondering if he rolled in dead fish again, but the smell wasn't coming from him.

Bishop glanced away from his ale briefly then back down without making eye contact. He drawled, "I'll be along in a while. I've got some more drinkin' to do...to celebrate. I'm still trying to decide if I want to come with you to your swamp village too. " That wasn't true; he had a perverse burning desire to see the mud hole she came from so he could laugh at it later, not to mention to meet both her foster father and her old boyfriend and let them know how far a real man could get with her. He just wouldn't let her know that. Karnwyr looked at him, exhaled sharply and curled up under the table.

She pulled away and replied curtly, "Fine, just don't wake me up too late. I'm worn out and I'm gettin' up early." That was an understatement; the duel had left her physically and mentally exhausted, and the only thing that kept her going other than adrenaline was the afterglow of her evening in the temple. She had been thinking all day about whether Tyr had truly spoken to her or if she had only debated with her guilty conscience. She still ached where Lorne's falchion had scored her ribs. Elanee had run at once to her side with healing spells as soon as she left the arena, but a deep bruise remained despite her efforts. Elanee told her she supposed it was due to a cursed enchantment on the blade and that only time would heal it.

Dee cast a last sidelong glance at Bishop who was glumly ordering another ale, then stalked out of the room, shaking her head and muttering to Cillian. "You would think I got killed the way he's actin', and I know he's not put out that I didn't ask him to be my champion like Neesh thinks. I could tell he only made the offer because Khelgar did and he wanted to save his male pride. What's wrong with him?"

Cillian, who at the best of times just tolerated his companion's mate, answered gruffly, "Where should I start?"

Shandra smiled as she watched Dee stalk off in a huff and set her goblet on the bar. Good, they could get her alone. She nodded at Neeshka, who looked over nervously to see if Bishop was following and saw that he was working on a serious drunk. She wasn't alone in assuming he _was_ put out because Dee hadn't allowed him to be her champion. She remembered Dee telling her that her boyfriend in West Harbor had broken up with her because she beat him in some silly competition at their Harvest Fair. She wondered if Bishop would follow suit. She thought grimly it was too bad he hadn't already because that would spare them the need to hurt Dee by telling her what an ass he was. There was no way to do this without hurting her.

Shandra headed toward the hallway and Neeshka followed after. Elanee leaned forward and whispered in Sand's ear then joined them. Qara noticed the other women leave, and feeling left out, followed to see what was going on lest she miss some good gossip. Elanee had charged Sand with keeping an eye on Bishop and distracting him if he headed for the hallway before they returned. He wasn't quite sure how he would do that just yet, and he considered the spells he could use surreptitiously. He supposed Dee would object if he _Polymorphed_ him into a slug and dropped him into the bowl of salt on the table, but he grinned at the thought anyway. He rather liked Shandra's suggestion to turn Bishop into a woman, except he suspected that once he was over the initial shock, he'd spend the next few days in his room molesting himself.

Sand needn't have worried about distracting Bishop, however. He had switched from ale to Cormyran whiskey after Dee stalked off. Sneering at Duncan's cheerful warning, "beer before liquor, never sicker," he responded with a particularly vile curse. The past few days had been tumultuous ones for him what with the trial, which he had thought Dee would most likely lose, and then the trial by combat, which he, like many of her friends and quite a few of the spectators, was certain she would lose. He had been so sure of it, in fact, that he had thought about little else except the aftermath. He was so sure Lorne would kill her he had gone to a bookmaker and bet a goodly sum on the Luskan. That damned devil girl had placed a 50-to-1 bet on Dee and was bragging about how her lucky coin helped Dee win. He would have mourned her in his way, which would include getting Torio Claven and her thug alone after he incapacitated him with a few drugged arrows. Then he would make sure the Luskan trash died very slowly, begging for him to kill them.

He had also entertained more than a few lewd fantasies about Dee's friends coming to his room to comfort him for the loss of his lover. Sometimes it was Shandra who came to him, and sometimes it was the devil girl, and sometimes they comforted him together. Thus he hadn't really thought about the possibility of her winning other than the fantasy he shared with Shandra of them celebrating together. The efficient way she trounced Lorne left him feeling incredibly aroused while he was sitting there in the arena watching, but now? Right now he couldn't have gotten it up if she was dancing naked on the table in front of him.

He struggled to put a word to what he was feeling, and after the third shot of whiskey, it came to him--fear. Hells yeah, she was starting to scare the shit out of him, and if any of the sheep who followed her were smart, they would be scared too. He was afraid of being swept up in the maelstrom that surrounded her. That scar on her chest--it was clear to him she was marked by fate, and the followers of those marked by fate usually ended up dead. But no one was worth dying for, especially a wench. What was she, anyway? She sure wasn't some simple farm girl. Surely not the aasimar that Sand made her appear to be for the trial either.

The more he drank, the clearer he thought, and the more he thought about it, there was something infernal about the power the shards seemed to give her, and he was the only one who could see how they were beginning to control her actions. What to do? He took another swig off the bottle and waited for something to come to him. The thing that had made the most sense was to save his own ass by making an alliance with the other side, which he had done. He had approached the Luskan giant he had been stalking at a tavern he frequented with an offer of information. When they met again a few days later, Lorne told him the mage who held his leash insisted on meeting with him in person outside of the city in the woods of an old ruined keep to hear his offer. The mage had sworn a truce for this meeting. His head told him he could be walking into a trap, but he had learned that even the blackest mages in Luskan still might operate under their own code of honor. Black Garius had offered him some enchanted arrows and a small pouch of gems as a gesture of good faith in return for being his inside man with a promise of more to come. He took another swig off the bottle. Now that was over. On the other hand, he was free of his alliance with Garius now that he no longer had a way of contacting him.

* * *

The women caught up to Dee after she had just finished washing off and settled into the large communal tub. Cillian was soaking contentedly in the warm water beside her, his tongue lolling out of his mouth. She grinned sheepishly as they entered and said, "I didn't think any of you were going to join me. Don't mind Cill." She nudged the bear and said, "Move over love, and give them room."

"We're not here to bathe, Dee. We need to talk," Neeshka said earnestly, the rapid swish of her tail betraying her agitation. She had been dreading this conversation since Shandra brought it up, but there was strength in numbers.

Dee looked from one to the other; from their folded arms and serious expressions she was not going to like what they had to say, and in her heart she knew that Bishop was involved. "Alright then, hand me a towel." She sighed and hauled herself out, and Cillian did as well, giving the two legged females a bearish pout before shaking himself off in their direction. She dried off and pulled her old nightshirt over her head waiting for them to begin.

Shandra waited while Dee dressed then quickly related the story of her encounter with Bishop the morning of the trial, including his displaying of his 'ten inches' to her. She scowled and punctuated that part with an eye roll, adding "seven is more like it, and that's being generous." Neeshka then related an encounter with him over a tenday prior when he had come upon her alone in the hallway. He backed her against the wall then stroked the base of her tail and made a lewd suggestion about wanting to see what she could do with it before she slapped him with it and ran off.

With a crestfallen look Dee asked Elanee and Qara, "You two as well?"

"He was rather free with his hands a few times until I threatened to sic Naloch on him, then I turned into a badger too to show him I was serious. I just ignored him until Shandra told me what happened to her. I'm concerned for you, Dee, and I don't want you to get hurt," Elanee replied softly.

"What did he do to you, Qara?," Dee asked quietly.

Qara had only followed along because she wanted to see what everyone else was doing. She complained about being left out about as much as she complained when they tried to include her. It had dawned on her as she listened that Bishop had made passes at every female in the party but her. Now she really felt left out, and her outrage burned white hot. How dare he ignore her! Why, when she was the most powerful, prettiest of all of them! That wouldn't have come as a surprise to Dee, however. Bishop's nickname for Qara was 'Fire Twat,' and he had told Dee more than once that it was just a matter of time before Qara hangs for finishing an argument by setting light to her lover's bed while he was still asleep in it. And it was ironic, because Qara was the only one of the four who would have taken him up on his offer. She balled her fists and snapped, "I...I'm just here because I'm concerned, like Elanee. I'll _Fireball _him if you want though."

Dee said in a barely audible whisper, "Thank you all for telling me. This couldn't have been easy for you. I'll have a talk with Bish, and he won't bother you again." She walked out looking at the floor without another word and went to her room, Cillian at her side nuzzling her. There was no way she could talk with them without releasing the geyser of angry tears waiting to erupt. She longed to go to the bar for a bottle of mead but couldn't face him yet so she paced across her room and wondered, but only for a few fleeting seconds, if it was true. But of course it was true.

And there was not only her friends, but that merchant's daughter. Were there others besides? She could understand it if she refused him or didn't leave him satisfied, but she knew that wasn't the case. He told her as much. She must have it out with him tonight. She knew what would happen though. He would deny everything and tell her they were all lying because they were jealous and they'd have an angry row. It would end either with her throwing him out or more likely in rough, angry sex, or....she didn't even want to think about the other alternative, but she had to.

What if he didn't deny it at all? She could hear his mocking laugh telling her that it was just the way he was and she was going to have to accept it. Ophala had told her once that if it wasn't for cheating men she wouldn't have much business, and most wives didn't care as long as their men were discreet. But she couldn't believe that all men were like that. Daeghun never even looked at a woman in the village much to the disappointment of several, staying true to his bond with Shayla. Would he have become bored with her if she had lived? Dee didn't think it likely. She thought about the other men she knew, and they all seemed capable of monogamy. But did she have a right to demand it from him?

She paced as Cillian lay on the floor and watched her. "I have to have time to think this through," she finally muttered as she put a chair under the door handle to keep it from opening. Feeling miserable, she curled up on the floor next to Cillian and tried to sleep, but she gave up after tossing and turning for a while when it occurred to her that he would pound on the door and yell for her to open up until he woke up everyone. She grabbed a change of clothes, her boots, her armor bag, and her weapon belt and moved quietly down the hallway until she came to Shandra's room, where she hesitated a moment before she knocked and said softly, "Shandra, can Cill and I stay with you tonight?"

After a moment Shandra opened the door and blinked sleepily, "Dee? Sure, come on in."

But Bishop didn't come to her room that night or go to the room he still kept though he slept in hers most nights. Instead, he looked into the bottle of whiskey for insight until he finally passed out on the bench along the wall. He was still lying there at dawn when she awoke and dressed to go to the temple. Shandra stirred as she was getting up, so she moved silently across the floor and slipped out the door so she wouldn't wake her. She caught sight of Bishop sleeping in the common room, hearing his snoring before she saw him.

Duncan brought her over a bowl of porridge and Cillian a fish and glanced at Bishop. "Everything alright, lass?"

"Damned if I know, Uncle," she replied softly, shaking her head. "Thank you for not saying 'I told you so' though." He patted her shoulder and walked back to the kitchen. Dee ate quickly then called Karnwyr over and let him out to relieve himself with Cillian behind the tavern. She waited until they were ready to come back in. He nuzzled her gratefully as she grabbed him a bowl of scraps from the kitchen, and he padded beside her wagging his tail happily as she walked over to Bishop. She sighed. That bench was no good for his back. She set the bowl on the floor for Karnwyr then leaned over and nudged Bishop gently until he stirred, cursed, and blinked up at her. She wrinkled her nose. Now he really reeked.

He slowly sat up with a groan and put his pounding head in his hands. "Qara better have set the tavern on fire if you're waking me up at the crack of dawn, wench."

She took a deep breath to try get control of her temper. "We need to talk when I get back, Bish."

He looked at her bleary-eyed and drawled as he ran his hands through his tousled hair, "Talk? Only thing I'm doing is going to bed. Maybe we'll talk later_ if _I feel like it, and maybe we won't. It depends on how good you are."

She crossed her arms and spat, " I've been doin' some talking with my friends, so don't even try to deny it. Did you think they wouldn't tell me? We will talk later, count on it. And take a bath first if you're planning on sleeping in my bed. You smell like you pissed yourself. Better yet, sleep in your own bed!" She turned and stalked off.

He cursed again and grabbed the bottle off the table to drain the rest of its contents before he stood stiffly, stretched, and staggered into the privy, muttering "Should've figured they'd open their big mouths. Who does that wench think she is to give me orders? She's acting like she thinks she owns me, like we're married. She better learn who the man is."

Dee stood behind the tavern and allowed herself a few tears then calmed herself by gazing east and taking in the beauty of the reds, oranges, and golds of the morning sky. She had steamed up her spectacles and was cleaning them on the tail of her shirt when she was startled by footsteps coming up behind her. She quickly put them back on then spun around, her hands falling reflexively to her sword hilts and drawing them almost all the way out. But it was only Casavir, and she breathed a sigh of relief and tried to still the pounding of her heart as she waited for him to catch up with her. She was beginning to understand his running away to Old Owl Well. She'd rather take on a legion of orcs than have it out with Bishop.

He smiled a shy greeting. "Good morning, my lady. I'm sorry to have startled you. If you going to the merchant quarter, do you mind if I accompany you as far as the Temple, that is, if I'm not intruding on your reverie?"

She smiled up at him. He was the only one of her companions she had to look up to. "No, you're not intruding, Cas." They walked all the way across the Dolphin Bridge in silence with Cillian walking between them. As she walked along she prayed to Meilikki silently, caressing the holy symbol at her neck. "Goddess, you know you're first in my heart, but please don't turn from me if there's a second. If there was a temple to you here, I'd be there. Forgive me."

She kissed the holy symbol and put it away then glanced up at Casavir after she finished her prayer. He blushed and looked away as her blue eyes met his own. She broke the awkward silence as they walked through the Merchant Quarter to the Temple by making small talk about the weather (he agreed that rain looked likely and it was unseasonably cool for late Elesias) and the upcoming trip to West Harbor. She eventually got him to talk a bit about the village to the north where he was raised until he was sent to the temple as they made their way through the bustling crowd in the Merchant Quarter. It seemed to be a painful subject for him though, so she let it drop. It sounded as if he had been sent when he was just a child, and she wondered if that had anything to do with his shyness. When they arrived at the temple he bowed and was about to take his leave of her when she opened the door and walked inside. He stood there for a moment, his mouth hanging open in surprise before following her in.

Casavir wasn't the only one who was surprised to see her there. Dee stood nervously near the door for a moment until Prior Hlam spotted her and glided over to take her hand and lead her in. Sir Grayson also did a double take then came over to her smiling and led her to a bench where a few of her squire brothers and sisters were sitting. They greeted her warmly and made room for her. She turned her head to see if Casavir had followed, but he had taken a seat in the back.

After the service, Prior Hlam and Judge Oleff came over to her as she was speaking with Sir Grayson, who said, "It gladdens my heart to see you here. Once you've had time to rest from the trial, I have need of your weapon smithing skills, Squire." He leaned closer and whispered conspiratorially, "I require a silver great sword. It's a gift for a squire who is soon to be knighted."

She gasped in astonishment. "You mean I'm...you still want me as your squire? I thought that was just for the trial!"

He chuckled and slapped her on the back. "You thought wrong, Squire Farlong. You'll not be rid of me that easily, that is if you're still up to the challenge."

She blushed and beamed at him. "I'm deeply honored, Sir, and I have a silver great sword I just finished before the trial." Khelgar had been teaching her to work mithril, but she was becoming obsessed with working silver and had crafted a number of weapons from the metal. In the back of her mind was the thought that if she got good enough, she might be able to make something of the shards. "I was working on it for Shandra, but she prefers the mithril sword I made her. I'll have my uncle bring it to you. But I must beg your leave to travel to West Harbor." She told them of her need to tell Lorne's mother of his fate so she wouldn't hear about it from some wandering merchant or tinker and her intention to give her the gold she got from selling Lorne's sword.

Judge Oleff took her hand, his blue eyes twinkling. "You must greet your foster father for me when you see him, my child. I don't know if you are aware of this, but I adventured with him many years before you were born when I was too young and foolish to know any better. It must have been forty years ago, or thereabouts. Once I came to my senses and devoted myself to the study of law, Daeghun came to me for assistance or advice from time to time. Perhaps when you return from West Harbor you may indulge an old man and let him tell you about the old days over a glass of wine."

Dee was amazed at the number of people she met who had known Daeghun, and apparently a different Daeghun than the one who raised her. "I will do that, sir. Did you know my mother as well? Her name was Esmerelle, and she traveled with Daeghun for several years, but it was probably years after you left his company."

Judge Oleff and Sir Grayson looked at each other then at her with interest. "You can't mean Esmerelle Sevarain!," Sir Grayson exclaimed then answered his own question, "Your mother? Why yes, I can see the resemblance now. You have her eyes and her fine hair, though not her curls." Judge Oleff nodded in agreement. Sir Grayson thought that it was a pity that her eyes and hair were all that Dee had inherited of her mother's beauty, but he kept that to himself.

This was not to say that he thought her unattractive; on the contrary, she had a handsome face, and a strong, lean figure, especially when seen from the back, but he observed that the most beautiful women invariably produced daughters who favored the fathers, while it was their sons that inherited their looks. He continued, "She had a devastating beauty. She was one of the most popular bards in the city when I was a young beardless whelp, and I was part of the throng of admirers who haunted her performances. I was utterly smitten with her. She had the voice of an angel and danced like..." Judge Oleff cleared his throat and cut him off.

Dee gaped at him in astonishment and gasped, "My mother was a bard? I know almost nothing about her. Daeghun never liked to talk about her. It was too painful for him."

Sir Grayson glanced at Judge Oleff and said, "We will talk more when you return. There was a portrait of her that used to hang behind the bar in the _Gilded Unicorn_. That festhall was destroyed in the war with Luskan, but I know her portrait was among the items saved from the fire. I'll make inquiries to see if I can locate it, or one of the others of her by the time you return."

Dee blinked and said, "Others?"

Sir Grayson nodded. "Yes, several of her admirers had portraits of her commissioned."

Dee struggled with the emotions threatening to overwhelm her. She stammered, "I've never seen...I don't remember what she looked like. I was only a bit over two summers old when she was killed."

Sir Grayson nodded. "The battle of West Harbor? I was a green squire then. I had no idea she was there."

Dee didn't want to wait. Suddenly nothing else mattered. Forget Aldanon and the shards! She could hardly breathe, and she yearned make him find the portrait for her now then get them to tell her everything they knew about her mother. But she had to talk to Aldanon, and she had to spread the warning about the King of Shadows. Her desire to learn about the mother she had never known paled in comparison to stopping the threat of Garius and the King of Shadows and her yearning made her feel small and selfish. She had a...duty. She smiled wistfully and said, "I really wish I could talk with both of you right now, but I've waited eighteen years, so I suppose I can wait a few more tendays. Please, I need to know everything about her though, the good and the bad."

Judge Oleff murmured, thinking aloud, "You would be around twenty years old..."

"Yes....no, wait, I'm one and twenty. I forgot, my birthday was last tenday, on the 13th." She completely forgot about it with the trial occupying her mind. She bowed to them both. "Please excuse me, I must be going to speak with Aldanon so we may catch our ship. My companions are probably waiting for me there. But I'll hold you to that glass of wine when we return, Your Honor." Little did she know that her companions were already waiting for her outside the temple, as well as Wolf and half of his crew. The word about her going to the temple spread and they wanted to see her with their own eyes to believe it.

As she left, Cassavir fell in beside her silent as a ghost. Sir Grayson remarked in an undertone as she moved out of earshot, "I wonder if she is aware that the young paladin is in love with her? They would make a handsome couple."

Judge Oleff watched them walk off and replied, "Yes, you can tell by the way she keeps him at arm's length with the bear between them. The way she is smiling at him betrays some interest in him though, and the way she's touching his arm is sending him mixed signals. I will counsel him about it so he doesn't go astray again."

Sir Grayson stroked his beard absently, deep in thought. "Twenty-one. She's a few years too young to be mine."

Judge Oleff raised an eyebrow and sputtered, "_You_ were Esmerelle's lover...as well?"

Sir Grayson replied with a chuckle, "_As well_, my Lord? Yes, once. She's one of three women I was...intimate with in my youth before I determined I preferred men. I was sixteen, and she was my first, truth be told. She was drunk and lonely, and I was eager and available. I believe she had taken half of the men of Blacklake as her lovers; indeed, there were even rumors about her and Lord Nasher." He frowned then added, "My squire doesn't need to know any of that."

Oleff rubbed his balding head as if that would jog his memory. "No, indeed not." He motioned him over to a window off to the side which offered a view of the street where they could talk without being overheard. They watched as Dee and her companions were approached by Lord Nevalle and a courier. "She's one and twenty?" He tried to do the math, calculating twenty-one years and nine months back from the 13th of Elesias. "She would have been conceived sometime early or in the middle of Uktar.

Sir Grayson chuckled. "Don't tell me...You too, old dog?"

Judge Oleff shrugged. "I had stopped traveling with Daeghun long before Esmerelle joined his band, but I met her through him. She often came to me seeking advice or a sympathetic ear, and one thing led to another. Of course I was in love with her. Who wasn't who knew her? She was very sad towards the end, near madness after her second husband's death, and she soothed her heart with drink and men. I remember the last time I held her in my arms; I told her she was beautiful, and she laughed bitterly and answered that beauty was a curse. It is possible that I could be, but then again..." He tried to be diplomatic. "Then again, there are half a dozen others that I know of in the same time period, and no doubt others I don't. There were only two that I know of besides myself who had the right height and coloring, however. Draven, who was arrested for murder and espionage not too long after Esmerelle disappeared was one. Perhaps she found out what he was and fled to the swamp to save her unborn child."

Sir Grayson drew Judge Oleff's attention to Dee as she called a youth over and talked to him for a few minutes, with her hands on his shoulders and looking into his eyes. It was clear she was making him repeat something until he committed it to memory. She handed him a coin, and the child sped off towards the Dock District while Dee and her companions strode away quickly towards Blacklake. "Hmmm, something's happened. No doubt Nevalle, or more likely, Lord Nasher has some urgent and dangerous task for her. You should inform His Excellency who her mother was just to make him sweat."

Judge Oleff chuckled. "Indeed, though I don't know if that would make him less inclined to send the girl off on a suicide mission, or more."

Will you tell her then?," Sir Grayson asked as they walked away from the window.

Judge Oleff shook his head. "About myself? Not unless she asks, and Draven is a more likely candidate anyway. That was a nasty affair, and she's better off not knowing about him. She has a father who has raised her, and even though they don't appear to be close, it would be selfish of me to intrude on their relationship, especially when it is just a possibility. This is not to say however that those of us who could be her father can't watch over her though and help her when we can."

* * *

Bishop shoved another shirt into his rucksack as the bell at the wharf rang out twice. He had at most fifteen minutes before the third bell, when the ship's crew would begin to cast off so she could set sail. He looked around to see if he missed anything then walked to the common room with Karnwyr on his heels. He was beginning to regret skipping the bath out of spite. At the time it seemed like a good idea to force the wench to put up with his funk, but it had just occurred to him that he was going to have to live with it too all the way to Highcliff. He strode to the bar, shoved Wolf aside, and tossed a gold piece at Sal. "Give me a bottle for the ship," he snapped.

Sal handed over a bottle of whiskey and caught the gold piece Bishop threw at him displaying little emotion. Bishop shoved it in his rucksack and jogged out the door. Just as the third bell rang, he growled, "Hurry up, mutt, or you'll have to swim" as he ran up the gangplank which the crew was ready to hoist it up. He looked around and was disappointed that Dee wasn't at the rail, crying because he wasn't there. Odd, because she loved sailing and was always on deck when the ship left port. Oh well, she was probably below decks crying on that dyke's shoulder. Let her get good and lonely, then he might let her make it up to him. She should be over it by Highcliff. She could come to him, and by then he would figure out how persuade her it was all her fault anyway. He thought about giving it to her good and hard in her old bedroom with her father in the next room forced to listen to her cries of pleasure and grinned as he leaned over the side of the rail and watched the city recede.

Wolf stood at the bar, waiting for Sal to fill a pint bucket of ale that he was to deliver to a shut-in down the street. "Excuse me, boss, but shouldn't you have told him? He's gonna be awful mad when he finds out."

Sal shrugged. "Not my problem. That's what he gets for being a lousy tipper."

For Dee hadn't made it to Aldanon's mansion and wasn't on the ship. She had been ordered to Lord Taverick's mansion by Lord Nasher to guard the shard he held. Outside the temple Dee sent Wolf to give a message to the captain of _The Vigilance_ that they wouldn't be sailing with him that day after all, but that he should keep the fare for their passage for his trouble, then to let her uncle know as well, and she had made him repeat her instructions three times before she let him go. So she was seeing Lord Taverick safely to his room, and the elderly lord was pondering why her eyes seemed so familiar, as _The Vigilance_ sailed out of the bay.


	14. Truth and Lies

Almost a tenday later Dee was no closer to beginning her journey to West Harbor. Instead she was crouching behind some debris outside of a ruined keep waiting for Vale, Nasher's contact from the Many-Starred Cloaks. Months had passed since she had accepted the idea that she had little control over her destiny, but that didn't mean she had to like it or wouldn't fight it every step of the way.

She surveyed the crumbling walls of the structure and shook her head in disgust. "What a shithole!" she hissed to Neeshka as she peered through her spyglass. "Trust Luskans to set up in ruin that'll probably come crashing down on all of our heads the minute they start casting spells. And how the hells did they get this far into Neverwinter territory without any of Nasher's people knowin' about it? Damned sloppy if you ask me." She also thought to herself that it was damned careless of Nasher to let such a strategic fortress fall into ruin in the first place, but she kept that to herself. She bit back the blasphemous curse that danced on her lips, mindful of Casavir to her right. She assigned Elanee and Neeshka to watch and lay back in the grass to get what rest she could while they waited.

Bishop went off scouting, but he was surly and next to useless lately anyway so she didn't even bother to ask where he was going. He didn't want to take orders, fine. She knew he had a strong enough survival instinct to take care of himself, stay out of sight, and not bring the Luskans down on them all. The only reason he had agreed to come along was because of the promise of Luskans to kill, and from the intelligence they had received, there would be plenty to go around. He had hardly spoken a word to her otherwise since the night he got back. It hurt, but not as bad as she thought it would.

She had just returned to the tavern that night from checking in on Cormick, gut-shot by mage fire and nearly killed but recovering like a true Harborman. Though she knew she wasn't responsible for his injury and Aldanon's abduction, she still was tormented by the thought that if only she had gone to Aldanon the night she first heard he had information for her that she might have prevented it. Earlier in the day she attended a memorial service at the Mask for Melia and a few others who the warlock and his demon minions had slaughtered. Casavir, Elanee, Sand, Grobnar and Shandra had come along. Lord Nasher was there and the Nine with him, along with many of his knights, the nobility, and the merchants of the city. It was a pleasant service; the focus was on how they lived rather than how they died. This was followed with plenty of food and drink, music, and dancing in remembrance of the dead. Ophala called it a "celebration of life," and Sand told Dee this was the Elven way.

As the afternoon wore on, Dee became the object of interest of several middle-aged and elderly men who engaged her in casual conversation as she picked at a plate of food from the buffet table. She had never had so much male attention in her life, and she didn't know what to make of it. Several of them peered closely into her face as if searching for something, one even had the audacity to take her chin in his hand as he spoke with her, and she heard her name mentioned a few times in snatches of whispered conversations. Apparently it was thought she had some old lord's eyes and another's mother's nose. She also heard the name "Draven" more than once, a name she vaguely remembered reading in one of the histories. Dee was naive about a good many things, but that didn't mean she was lacking intelligence. Her knight had many wonderful qualities, but his one great failing was that he gossiped like a school girl, something everyone knew and even his squires teased him about. Therefore, it wasn't hard for her to figure out the sudden interest in her in light of their conversation at the temple. What was appalling was the sheer number of men who had taken an interest in meeting her. What kind of woman was Esmerelle?

There had been a portrait hanging in Lord Taverick's bedroom of a delicate, beautiful woman holding a lyre dressed in ancient Ilfarn garb standing before a ruined temple. She had hair the color of Dee's, and her gut told her that this was one of the portraits of her mother. It wasn't the time to ask him about it though, what with demons threatening to eat their entrails. He had taken to his bed after his ordeal, so she hadn't been able to return to him. She had gone through some of the rooms upstairs with Casavir looking for Ophala to take her leave of her so they could visit Cormick and had stumbled on another portrait in one of the private rooms of the same woman with a fair-haired man lying on a bed of red satin, neither wearing much of anything at all and locked in an passionate embrace. Dee blushed scarlet and fled from the room, and Casavir followed on her heels.

"Don't be embarrassed, my lady. Such paintings are common in this sort of establishment," Casavir said softly, puzzled as to why she found the erotic painting embarrassing when she wasn't embarrassed to walk about half naked, or worse in the tavern and when they camped.

Dee blinked at him and replied, "'Tis not that, Cas. I..." She blushed again and turned away then whispered, "You wouldn't understand...unless, did you ever walk in on your parents in the act?"

He flushed scarlet in the way that only someone who had could. "You mean that..."

"I think that was my mother!" She was no longer sure if she wanted to learn anything else about Esmerelle.

She was deep in thought the whole way back from the temple infirmary where Cormick was recovering. Daeghun's reluctance to talk about Esmerelle was more understandable now. What Dee didn't understand was why they became such good friends in the first place. Had they been lovers as well? It wouldn't surprise her since apparently her mother had taken half the men in Neverwinter as her lovers. Then again, in the short time she had traveled with her companions she had formed strong bonds with them. Perhaps he overlooked her faults, like she did with Neeshka, or she had to admit, with Bishop. Or Qara. There was an evil thought. Gods, what if Esmerelle had been Daeghun's Qara? If she were to show up at her door a few years from now alone and with a swollen belly, Dee wouldn't turn her away. It was something to add to the list of things she was going to demand Daeghun tell her when she got to West Harbor. For now, she needed a bath, so she made her excuses and left the others in the common room.

He was waiting for her hidden in the shadows when she entered her room. She hadn't expected him back from Highcliff so soon, but the captain of _The Villigance _took pity on him and hailed a passing ship heading for Neverwinter which allowed him to transfer over. Cillian paused to inspect a fish left in a bucket just outside her door as she opened the lock. She glanced at it with a frown and wondered why the hells Duncan had left it there instead of feeding him in the kitchen as she unlocked her door and stepped inside. She patted his back fondly and said, "Go ahead, love. You deserve a treat because you were so well behaved today." She was exhausted from too little sleep the past few days and the muggy late summer heat and distracted by thoughts of her mother and the day's events or she would have sensed something amiss.

Her sword belt was already unfastened as she stepped through the door. She hung it on the stand and kicked off her boots and wiggled out of her leggings. She started to unfasten her jerkin and was considering going back to ask for a cup of Elanee's tea to help her sleep. Cillian looked up from devouring the fish as he caught a familiar scent. He abandoned the fish and growled a warning, but it came too late as the door slammed in his face and the bolt was thrown. Dee's braid was snatched from behind as she turned. Bishop forced her to face him, and with a savage open-handed slap, sent her spectacles flying. Dee heard him mutter something but her ears were ringing from the slap, some kind of curse ending with "whore" and slapped her again. "What the hells, Bish!" she demanded. She punched and slapped back at him trying to break free and managed to connect an elbow with his teeth.

Cillian heard the struggle inside and roared to get in then threw his weight against the door several times sending a crack running along its length, but the latch held. Like many low-rent taverns, Duncan's doors were doubly reinforced to guard them against damage by drunken, rowdy patrons. He looked frantically down the hall and ran to Shandra's door then to Casavir's, slapping a forepaw hard against each of them the way the two-leggeds did and roaring at both, but neither of them answered. He looked back towards Dee's room helplessly and was about to run back and continue to throw his weight against it until it broke. Then he remembered that Dee wanted to sit in the warm water instead of eating with the others. That's where they were! He ran as fast as he could to the common room to find the other two-leggeds.

Bishop muscled her into the center of the room, grappled her and threw her on the bed. He stood over her glaring murderously as he wiped blood from his mouth and spit out what looked like a tooth before he snarled, "You must've thought it was pretty fucking funny sending me off alone, bitch. You and whoever you're screwing must've got a pretty good laugh at my expense! Or did the dyke put you up to it?" He balled his fists and stalked towards her. His breath reeked of cheap liquor and more than his breath; his pores exuded it. She knew how bad he could get normally, but drunk he was ten times worse. But she had just about had it with his accusations, and her outrage overcome her fear.

She scooted backwards on the bed trying to get out of his reach and spat indignantly, "Hells, Bish, that's your own damned fault. If you hadn't waited until the last minute to get on the ship, Uncle Duncan could've told you I had to cancel the trip! And I'm not bedding anyone! You're the only one who's screwing around!" Cillian had become strangely quiet, and the thought that Bishop might have poisoned the fish made her want to vomit.

She swallowed and spoke softly as he stood over her trying to reason with him just as she had talked the two thugs who shot Cormick into surrendering. It occurred to her then that they were not murderers, just afraid and desperate, and she could talk them into surrendering instead of sending them to stand in Kelemvor's queue. Looking into his eyes she could see the fear there too. She said evenly, as if trying to calm a wild animal, "I thought you took off without a word again because you didn't want want to talk about what the others told me. Bish, I cried myself to sleep for two nights before Wolf told me he tried to stop you from getting on the ship, but you were moving too fast for him to catch you." Actually, Wolf hadn't tried to stop him until several minutes had gone by. He felt guilty about letting Bishop get on the ship, so he ran to the dock, but the ship had already weighed anchor. He didn't say anything to her for two days because he was embarrassed, but eventually the guilt cut through him like a knife every time he saw the stricken look on her face.

Bishop listened to her and felt his heart soften a bit when she said she had cried over him. But then he sneered, "Figured you would have an excuse ready, not that I believe a word of it. You're going to tell me who he is, or who they are, and maybe I'll let you walk out of here after I'm finished with you, that is if you still can walk!" He stood over her menacingly as she backed to the far side of the bed. In the back of his mind, the part where sanity struggled to claim his attention, he remembered seeing the brat standing at the dock waving at him on the ship. He remembered returning the wave with an obscene gesture. But the drunken fury prevailed.

He dove at her as she slid off the other side of the bed onto the floor. She was momentarily out of his reach, but she had boxed herself in. If she could get to her feet she could defend herself. He leaned over and gave her a glancing blow with his right fist which she blocked, then he grabbed her by the throat and squeezed and rolled off the bed on top of her. He was still shouting at her, but his words made no sense. She drew her knees up defensively as she reached down to the hidden sheath inside her jerkin where she kept Bishop's knife. She had kept it after Marcus returned it, reasoning that she had more than repaid him for it. Her hand closed around it and she drew it out. His left hand found her braid again as he tried to force her knees apart. She grabbed his wrist, trying to get his hand off her throat and felt something warm and wet hit her cheek, once, and again, and again. It was his tears. She had a sickening realization that there would be no talking him down from his seething rage, and he wouldn't stop until she was no longer breathing, but still she hesitated to use the knife. Anyone else she would have made a corpse by now. Instead she shoved with all her strength and managed to get him part way off her. She followed up with a knee to where it would get his attention.

He cursed and doubled over and grabbed his crotch, but he still maintained a death grip on her braid with his left hand and kept her from escaping. He fought back the waves of pain that took his breath away. Once he could move again he would make her pay for that. If he had to he would finish the lying bitch and he would take care of her uncle too, and anyone else who got in his way before made his escape. She tried to scramble away, but he jerked her back. She slashed desperately and blindly behind her with the knife and then flew forward on the bed gasping for breath as he howled in pain and his hold slackened. As he hauled himself up the side of the bed cursing, she rolled across and grabbed at one of the wands on her nightstand, and prayed to whatever god would listen it was the right one as she held it up and aimed.

Meanwhile Cillian sped into the common room, his claws scoring the wooden floor along his path. He ran up to Shandra and Casavir finishing their supper, roared at them, and ran back towards the door to the hallway, but they didn't follow. He roared in frustration as they just sat there looking at him then each other in bewilderment. He looked around the room. Where was the two-legged who could speak with him? She was nowhere to be seen, and he didn't smell her badger. He howled, ran back to the bar, and tugged gently at Duncan's apron. "What's wrong big fella, you need to go outside?" Duncan asked with a chuckle. Cillian snorted in exasperation and considered biting him.

Neeshka stepped out of the privy, took note of Cillian's odd behavior, looked around, and exclaimed, "Where's Dee? Something's happened! Sal, go get Sand!" Cillian chuffed in relief; he should have known that the two-legged with the tail would be the smartest of the lot.

Casavir was on his feet at once, and he and Shandra followed Cillian as he raced back down the hall. Dee had any number of enemies who might have gotten the drop on her, including most recently the murderous warlock who was in a three way competition with her and Garius to gain possession of the shards. Shandra cursed herself aloud for leaving her alone. "Why did her room have to be all the way at the end of the hall?," Casavir thought as he drew his hammer and resolved not to leave her alone again no matter what the scoundrel she shared her bed with thought. Duncan followed them, his worry instantly sobering him, and he fumbled with his pass key when they reached the door as Shandra and Casavir knocked and shouted for Dee.

Neeshka went the faster way out the front door, climbed agilely from the window to the fire escape to the roof, and ran diagonally across to Dee's window, which she knew was most likely unlocked and open this time of year. She got there first. She dropped to the ledge from the eaves landing on her toes, squatted on her haunches, found a finger hold on the window frame while sticking her tail out behind her to help her balance on the narrow ledge, and peered in. She was scared sick for Dee, but she was also prudent enough not to rush in unless she knew what she was facing. Maybe whoever took the sage came after her too. She didn't sense any devils or demons, but then she would have sensed them while still in the common room.

Dee was sitting on the chair near the door holding a knife defensively in one hand and a wand in the other, and talking calmly to someone. Neeshka shielded her eyes and peered across the room where she saw Bishop lying rigidly on the far side of the bed, clutching his hand which was wrapped in some kind of cloth stained crimson and glaring at Dee like he wanted to strangle her. Neeshka tapped at the window to get her attention before she pushed it open; not even a minute later, Duncan shoved the pass key in the lock as Shandra and Casavir called out to her. Cillian nearly knocked Duncan over as he forced his way past the second the door was open and ran to her side, reared up on his hind legs with his fore paws extended in the attack posture and roared at Bishop.

Dee lay the wand on the table and called him until he came to her side. She stroked his fur and spoke to him gently. "No mauling tonight, love."

Casavir and Shandra almost tripped over each other as they pushed through the door and Neeshka swung in through the window. Sand had run from his shop to catch up with the others and arrived hard on their heels. Casavir still had his silver war hammer raised, and as he quickly assessed the situation--the ugly purple mottling on Dee's throat and the angry welt rising that promised a black eye--he glared at Bishop daring him to give him a reason to use it. But the ranger was obviously injured too, and besides an obvious wound to his hand, his face showed evidence that she had given as much as she took. Yet despite this, it looked like she had tried to make him comfortable. She had even placed a pillow under his head.

Shandra was the first to speak. "Dee, are you alright?"

Cillian was still snarling lowly and baring his razor-sharp teeth though she was making great progress in calming him. Bishop lay there shooting poisoned arrows at them with his eyes. His hate was almost palpable. She answered without looking away. "Hmmm? Just working some things out with Bish. Cas, it would mean a lot to me if you could go heal him, or could someone go get Elanee? Sand, do you have some of that ale purgative? I need him sober so he'll listen to reason. And Cas? I need you to bear witness. He may not like you much, but he knows you won't lie and you can tell if others do."

Casavir glanced at her with an long-suffering expression that said he'd rather clean the privy with his bare hands than touch Bishop, but he said softly, "Of course, my lady."

Bishop made an odd strangled snarling sound as Casavir approached him, still glaring at him with hate.

Dee sighed. "Don't look like he's ready to listen to reason yet. Don't get any closer, Cas. I'm not sure how long that _Hold_ spell is gonna last, and I'm not sure if it'll work a second time." She kept the wand at the ready anyway. "He's damned lucky I grabbed that wand and not the one those thugs shot Cormick with. We're both lucky."

"Very well, I have a better use of my spells," Casavir replied tersely as he asked for Tyr forgiveness for thinking that it was too bad she had only hit him with a _Hold_ spell and not _Magic Missile_. He walked back to Dee, put his hands gently on top of her head, and whispered a prayer to Tyr.

Neeshka hopped back onto the window sill and said, "I spotted Elanee out in the salt flat by the river when I ran across the roof. I'll go yell for her."

Sand weaved his way into the increasingly crowded room looking through a bag he grabbed on his way out the door. "I have a potion to neutralize poison. That will have the same affect." He approached Bishop warily as he calculated the time remaining on the spell. "Little girl, I don't know if I should regret teaching you how to use wands. He's not going to be able to drink a potion in his current state, but fortunately I have the spell memorized." It was a quick spell to cast. As soon as he finished he gathered his robes and ran back to the safety of the others. As he crossed the floor, he grimaced as her spectacles crunched under his foot. Fortunately, he also had a _Mending_ cantrip memorized.

Duncan stood next to the door with his arms crossed. Why was everyone so quiet, and why wasn't anyone doing anything except the bear? He gave Bishop a dangerous look and growled, "I'm thinkin' he needs to leave my niece's room--now! Casavir, help me to carry him out."

Dee shook her head at him, brushed her hair out of her eyes, and replied softly, "Please Uncle, he can't go anywhere for the time being. We're going to talk, you see, and that'll be after he's listened to what I have to say. We had a misunderstanding. He thought I sent him on that ship on purpose to get him out of the way so I could take up with another lover, and he doesn't care to hear the truth. There's much besides that still has to be said between us. After we're finished, I'd appreciate it if you helped him to his room."

"If you're sure, niece." Duncan observed her closely. She was too quiet, eerily serene, and it occurred to him that it was mostly due to shock. "I'll be close by though." He glanced from Shandra to Casavir, who rested his hand on his war hammer. He kissed her on top of her head then looked at her puzzled as he realized something was different. "What happened to yer hair, lass?"

She blinked at him in confusion, set the wand back on the table within easy reach before she put her hand to her head and ran her fingers through her hair as if for the first time. The eyes of the others turned involuntarily to see what he was talking about, and Shandra and Neeshka gasped, just now realizing what was different about her. Her hair fell in an asymmetrical bob, hanging down to her collarbone in front and shorter in the back. She gave Duncan a dazed look then glanced across the room. "'Tis over there." She nodded towards the bed, where her braid landed after she slashed through it with Bishop's knife; lying beside it was the tip of Bishop's left thumb. "He wasn't kidding when he said that knife was sharp," she added dryly.

So they did talk, or rather, she talked and he listened grudgingly. Elanee arrived and cast several healing spells until Bishop's thumb was a healthy pink, albeit shorter with half of the nail gone, while Sand cast a few discreet _Clean_ cantrips on the blood staining the wall and floor. Shandra led Duncan out of the room to give her some privacy but stayed close by, and Sand and Elanee followed them once they no longer had an excuse to be there. Only Casavir and Neeshka remained. He lit a few candles to make himself useful then stood grimly on the other side of Cillian, blushing as he was forced to hear more of the intimate details of their relationship than he ever cared to know, and attesting to the truth of what Dee said when prompted. Neeshka perched on the window sill holding the discarded wand, not having any particular reason to be there, but not shy about wanting to listen.

At some point Bishop realized he could move again, and he brought his hand up to look at his thumb trying his best to ignore her. He still couldn't believe she cut his thumb off! Could this be any more humiliating being forced to sit here like this with all the sheep bleating in the hallway as they listened to her? He was sober for the first time in days, and he considered their relationship in the harsh light of reality. He sat up on the bed, causing the bear to growl a warning at him. Dee patted his neck soothingly. He turned his attention to her as an awkward silence filled the room and he realized she must have asked him something.

She sighed and repeated herself. "Did you hear me? I swear before Tyr I've not been with another man but you since we've been together, and you know you're the only one I've ever had."

Casavir added curtly, "By Tyr, she speaks the truth."

Bishop snorted and replied, "Yeah? Only a matter of time before a wench who likes to do the deed as much as you do isn't satisfied with one cock. Maybe I taught you too well. You know, your holiness, I've taught her about things a pro charges extra for, and she hadn't refused me much. She's as well trained as any festhall wench, and I'm thinkin' she's too much for a pious man such as yourself. Tell me, is that the truth?"

Casavir shifted uncomfortably and flushed as he struggled in vain to vanish the images of taking her in various positions, but he took a deep breath and replied with a catch in his voice, "Then you're a damned fool. An intelligent man would be happy to have a pliant and giving lover."

Dee pushed her hair back and gazed at Bishop. "I've been content with you except for when you get like this. I don't want anyone else, and I don't think it's too much to ask for you to be faithful to me if we're gonna be together. Otherwise, what's the point of you sharing my bed? Maybe Ophala's right and I _should_ take a few more lovers before I settle down with one."

"What, you mean now you have an excuse to go whoring around?" he spat back at her.

Dee sighed in exasperation and said, "You see how you got, and I'm innocent. How am _I_ supposed to feel? You shouldn't messed with my friends. If you really needed to have another woman with us, I could have arranged something with Ophala. 'Tis not something I'm interested in, but I would have tried it for you." Casavir nearly choked at that.

He snorted as he picked up her braid and toyed with it. "You say that now. And I suppose that in exchange I'd be expected to be a good little lapdog and follow you blindly to my death like the rest of the sheep. And _if_ we manage to survive, settle down, take up farming, and get you with a half dozen brats?" He was torn; there was a small part of him that wanted this very much. He had grown to care for her more than he would admit to anyone, and she wasn't a bad choice. They would have good looking kids who would be tall as trees and strong as bulls. She had the kind of strong-boned face that would more than likely age well. He wouldn't have believed it, but the short hair really suited her face, making her almost beautiful. But what would he give up for that? Only his freedom. He chose his words carefully. "That's all I need, a wife and a bunch of brats tie me down. Might as well cut off my balls now and hand them over. And you'll probably get fat too!"

Casavir turned to Dee and stated matter-of-factly, "He speaks the truth." He stepped closer to the door with his arms folded across his chest looking like he desperately wanted to flee.

Dee stood and walked over to the bed and took her braid from Bishop. She muttered, "I should sell this to a wig maker. 'Tis no use to me now." She set it on the nightstand and sat on the bed so she could into his eyes. "Bish, what it comes down to is I've decided I have enough people tryin' to kill me without my lover doing it too. I don't believe that beating the hells out of each other should be part of normal life either. I forgive you for all of this, but if you're not ready to settle down with one woman, perhaps 'tis best if we part. You can still travel with us if you like, and I'm going to make the rest swear to treat you no differently if you stay with us, but you'll come with us as our scout and archer and not as my lover."

He stood and stormed away from the bed as if she had struck him. "You're mistaken if you thought I was gonna reply with honeyed words of love, begging you to take me back, sweetheart. You're a great lay, but that's about it. I was getting tired of risking my ass all the time for you anyway with the way you attract trouble. And besides, you snore, and so does your bear. Finally I can have a wench then go back to my room alone and sleep in peace!"

She stretched out on her bed and turned on her side, facing away from him as he left. "Funny thing is after I cried until I had no more tears to cry, only emptiness, I saw I don't love you, so your honeyed words wouldn't have moved me anyway. Good night, Bish."

"Damned wench always has to have the last word!" he thought as he stalked angrily to the door then past the gauntlet of her friends.

Casavir noted with grim satisfaction as Bishop shoved past that she was speaking the truth, but he saved Bishop the final humiliation of declaring it. He suppressed a smile as he said, "My lady, I don't feel you should be alone. You've had a great shock, and you're not yourself." He blushed and added quickly, "Not that I'm suggesting I should stay with you, but one of the others should." This was a lie, but he silently asked Tyr for forgiveness.

* * *

Since that night she had hardly had a word with Bishop, who seemed to be making an effort to avoid her in turn, though from time to time she caught him watching her just as she watched him when she thought he wasn't looking in a reverse of the first night they saw each other. He made it known to anyone listening that he was visiting a different brothel or festhall every night, but she was surprised that it didn't hurt nearly as much as she supposed it should have, though she did miss him at times. "That's what comes of having a shard of silver for a heart," she mused to Cillian.

The Many-Starred Cloaks had searched diligently for Aldanon for days, and someone finally scryed unusual activity around an abandoned keep to the north. Dee had been handling special projects for Nevalle and Lord Nasher as she waited. "Special projects seems to be the code for things no one else is crazy enough to take on," she whispered dryly to Casavir, and she managed to provoke a chuckle from him at that. She couldn't think about going back to West Harbor until this was resolved. Finally they were summoned to Castle Never and given the news and set out at once for a place called _Crossroads Keep_.

Then it was a matter of sneaking in through a forgotten escape tunnel that led to the lower levels. Dee thanked the gods that Qara had refused to come along. She wished Khelgar had been finished with his training as they descended into the tunnel so he could check its stability, but along with the acceptance that she had no control over her fate came a sense of assurance that she wasn't going to die until she had fulfilled whatever it was she was destined for. With them sneaking in the back way and the main Neverwintan forces coming from the front, the Luskans didn't stand a chance. They disrupted the ritual just in time, and all that was left was the clean-up of the Luskan dead. Neeshka winked at Dee and made short work of looting the bodies. Vale used a _Teleport_ spell to transport Aldanon and a mysterious veiled captive back to Neverwinter. Aldanon argued that he should be allowed to stay to catalog the rare books in the library, but he was promised he would be allowed to return once he had recovered from his ordeal. Dee was left in charge of the clean-up.

The ground was hard from the lack of rain, and so to save time, she had a pit dug in which the corpses were piled along with furniture broken beyond repair gathered from the keep and dry brush gathered from the nearby woods. As she watched the corpses being gathered, she was disturbed to see that several of them bore definite marks of torture. She shivered; it was one thing to kill an enemy out of necessity, but what had been done to these men sickened her. She wondered for more than a moment where Bishop had gone "scouting."

Elanee and Sand unleashed their fire spells after Casavir spoke a few words over the dead. Dee watched the bonfire quietly and felt more at ease than she had for months with Garius's death. She left a few Greycloaks standing guard over the bodies until the fire burned out. In the morning they would fill in the grave before they left. She finally had leave from Lord Nasher to set out for West Harbor, so they would leave as soon as they were finished in the morning, using the horses he had provided for them.

But Lord Nasher decided he had other plans for her.


	15. One Man's Reward

One man's reward is another's derelict, money-sucking shithole.

"'Tis mine?" Dee sat on a broken rock wall outside the ruined keep with her face buried in her hands. Cillian sat on the ground beside her nuzzling her comfortingly with his snout. This had to be some kind of bad dream, like the one that kept repeating in which the whole place came crashing down on their heads. She mumbled quietly, "But I'm just a ranger from West Harbor. What the hells do I know about rebuilding a keep and raising an army? I don't even know where to start."

Shandra chuckled. "That's what he said." She nodded over at Sir Nevalle examining a tower missing its roof and sniffed, "I get the feeling his lordship of the perfect coif doesn't think much of your promotion. The whole time he was reading Nasher's scroll he had a sour look on his face like he smelled something bad every time he looked at you."

Sir Nevalle had appeared suddenly and without warning, teleporting in that morning as they were hunting for a few Luskans who had escaped during the siege. He came bearing a boxed scroll, suitable for framing he said, stamped with Lord Nasher's own seal proclaiming Crossroads keep hers and granting her the right to a title and suitable arms. Of course he had to add that a herald would be assigned to help her design a device for her arms that was suitable. Along with this came a letter written in a thin, florid script stating Lord Nasher was providing a monetary reward to be used towards repairing the Keep, and he was also providing a master builder to supervise the repairs as well as a man-at-arms, or in this case, a woman-at-arms named Kana to assist with building and training a squad of Greycloaks. Once they had arrived and received their assignments, she was to return to Neverwinter and report to the Watch office to meet the other prisoner who was rescued with Aldanon, who was being held under lock and key but offering her help. Nevalle was rather cryptic about the prisoner and finally muttered, "You'll understand better when you see her."

Dee had smiled sweetly at Nevalle even as she dug her nails into her palms and relied, "Of course, I'll leave for Neverwinter as soon as I can after they arrive. Oh, by the way, I already have a device: On a field of azure, two swords crossed over a monstrous golden bear, rampant. Will that do, because his Lord's college of Heralds has already approved it." She suppressed a chuckle when he stared at her, dumbstruck. Sir Grayson had already made her consult with a herald when he took her as a squire, as he did with all his squires though most already had family devices. He explained to his squires that on a battlefield it was essential to have a quick way to determine who was friend and who was foe, and one way to do this was to look for your allies' devices on banners borne on tall polls.

She frowned looked over at Nevalle and snorted, "Should I care what his lordship thinks of me? Did you note how he insists on callin' me Dierdre after I told him I go by Dee?" Shandra rolled her eyes and nodded. Dee growled, "He looked like he was dying to make a crack about something smelling of swamp, but he probably wisely figured I would have had to break etiquette by breaking his perfect teeth and and make him cry by mussing his hair."

Shandra burst out laughing and said, "He would have it coming. I'd do it for you."

Dee continued, "From what my knight says, Sir Nevalle earned his arms on his knees. Oh, and he has male pattern baldness. When Sir Grayson's barber fixed my hair, I heard him tell Sir Grayson that once a month Nevalle visits for a haircut, highlights, and a _Hair Growth _cantrip."

Shandra almost fell over laughing. "I believe it. His hair is too perfect."

Dee flushed as her initial anger passed, ashamed of sinking to his level and added, "I'm not being fair though. I've seen him at practice, and he's skilled enough with a blade to have earned his title. I'm scared, and I'm taking it out on him. Gods, Shandra, I didn't really expect lands when Lord Nasher promised them, but why would he give me this?"

Shandra thought she knew but held her tongue. She looked around at the ruined buildings and and changed the subject. "Wonder how much coin they'll give you to fix it up."

Dee sat back and looked at her as she stroked Cillian's neck. "To the point where it won't come falling down on our heads? I bet not nearly enough. Gods, I wish Khelgar was here. I need dwarven advice on whether I should even bother with the repairs or just pull the whole thing down."

Bishop snorted from his perch on a nearby barrel where he had been fletching an arrow, and eavesdropping, and drawled, "A smart person would've known that when you were promised a reward of lands that it would end up being something like this worthless...what did you call it, Captain, shithole? You would have to be a complete fool to think you would get a real reward. But then being treated like a fool by Neverwinter is something you're good at."

She turned to him and snapped, "That's enough, Bishop! Why don't you make yourself useful and hunt some game. Killing things is something you're good at." Karnwyr whimpered like she had kicked him and lay his head between his paws, still dejected over his companion's demotion.

"That sounded like an _order_, Captain," he replied disdainfully as he examined an arrow. He looked at her feeling a raw ache in his chest that made it hurt to breathe. So it was down to this? He had suspected for months that Duncan had told her the truth about him. A big mouth drunk like him couldn't resist confiding in his dear niece. He hinted about it that night at the temple, but she cut him off, telling him she didn't care about his past and acting like she didn't know what he was talking about when he accused her of blackmailing him. She was so sincere that he had believed her then as much as you could believe a wench, but that crack about killing things sounded like she was blackmailing him now. Alright then, he could play her game, be the good sheep, and bide his time, but sooner or later, he was going to get free and make her pay.

"Bish.." she sighed. "I don't want to argue with you any more. If you don't want to be here, or can't be here and at least be civil, then go. Far be it from me to keep you." She bit her lip and wiped away a tear and added, "Bish, can we...try to get along and put this behind us?" She was about to say 'be friends,' but it occurred to her that they never had been friends, not really. They had been lovers for months, they had been amiable enough at times, but that was the best their relationship got.

He stood and shouldered his quiver. Maybe the wench missed him more than she let on, or at least the best part of him, and he knew she wasn't getting it from anyone else. He had watched her closely since that night, but that damned bear of hers was watching him too, so he had bribed one of Wolf's crew to let him know what she was doing. He missed being with her more than he would have thought possible; he missed her laugh and the way she used to smile at him like he was the only man in the world, the way she did little things to please him, and most of all he missed gazing into her eyes as she gazed back and called out his name when she was overcome with pleasure. She approached sex with the same reckless abandon with which she slaughtered orcs, and he missed that too. It had been so long that he had forgotten what it felt like to be with a woman who wanted to be with him and wasn't only there for his coin. But that's what made her dangerous. He was getting attached. Every smile was another tie binding him to her, and that caused him a frightful sensation, like he was being smothered. It was better that things were like this. He wasn't tied to her anymore, but now he couldn't leave--he had to watch her and make sure she kept her mouth shut. He stood with a mock bow and said, "Of course, Captain, your humble scout and hunter is at your service." He whistled at Karnwyr and stalked off. Dee watched him go until he was out of sight.

Shandra walked over and put an arm around her shoulder. "You still miss him?"

Dee shrugged. "He can be so different out in the wild, especially when it's just the four of us. I still say that city living poisons him, and there's more, something from his past that haunts his dreams, but he got mad whenever I tried to talk to him about it. I never thought I'd admit it, but I miss having someone to sleep with too. Sometimes I would wake up first and just watch him. He looks peaceful like a little boy when he's asleep. And..." she blushed but chuckled and replied, "I miss the sex, Shan. Gods I really miss it, and that scares the hells out of me 'cause it makes me wonder if I take after my ma in that way too. Anyway, I don't miss it enough to put up with his black moods and jealousy and smacking me around until he makes me kick his ass."

Then she stood, brushed off her backside, and said "I suppose I better start acting like the captain and see what kind of supplies we have. Good place to start, huh?"

Shandra shrugged. "Good as any."

Dee chuckled. "Luckily the Luskans left the larder stocked, though I wouldn't put it past them to have poisoned some of the supplies. Gods, now I'm getting paranoid! I'll put Sand in charge of checking that. Nevalle said that the former lord, his family, and many of his people here died in the plague and then what with rebuilding the city after the war they didn't have anyone to send here, so all that was left was the inn and a few farmers." Cillian stretched and looked longingly at the creek. She scuffed his neck and kissed the top of his head. "What's wrong, love, you want to go fishing? Go ahead, I'll be fine." Cillian took a look towards the woods where Bishop had gone and decided she was safe enough for now, though he gave Shandra a warning look before he scampered off. "Where is everyone? I know Neesh has been looting the Keep of any valuables left behind. Oh, did I tell you she found Garius's secret supply of chocolate bonbons, and they're the good ones too."

"Chocolate bonbons?" Shandra asked incredulously.

"Yeah, fancy expensive ones like they have in Blacklake, and..." she chuckled and continued, "he also had a good sized collection of women's underthings in a secret drawer. He was even wearin' some under his robe when they hauled his corpse out to the fire pit."

Shandra laughed and replied, "Makes me wonder how many power-mad maniacs were women's underthings under their armor and robes. Do you think Sir Hair does?"

Dee whispered, "Sir Grayson says he doesn't wear any at all."

Shandra laughed then asked, "Should we get the others? I think Neeshka's at the Inn with Grobnar and Sand taking advantage of there being no innkeeper, and probably looking for hidden loot." The innkeeper disappeared immediately after they routed the Luskans leaving no doubt where his allegiance lay. "Casavir was headed towards that church, and I think Elanee was looking in the abandoned farms to see what she could find."

Dee chuckled. "I should have guessed where they would all be. That won't last for long. I was planning to ask Uncle Duncan what he thought of lettin' Sal run it. He's wanted to get his own place for a while. I walked over there last night and Sand had claimed the best room in the inn as his own, though he reluctantly offered it to me. He's not one for sleeping on the ground under an open sky. Nevalle will probably pull rank and kick him out of it though, and I'd bet Sand will probably answer him with a reverse _Hair Growth _spell." They both laughed long and loudly at that picture. "Come on Shan, let's see if there's anything worth harvestin' on the farms."

As they ambled along through the fields, Dee stopped to check the soil at different places along the way, as did Shandra. Dee muttered wryly that it was sure obvious to anyone watching they had been raised as farmers. They ran into Elanee, who congratulated Dee on the verdant loamy soil in her lands, and they found a good crop of hay for the stock and grains--oats, barley, and wheat, and carrots, beans, potatoes and turnips nearly ready to harvest as well as an abundance of beans, squashes and greens, enough to feed a very small army through the next spring.

Dee picked a lock to open a shed and peered inside for tools. "We need to cut the hay before the rains come for sure, but it would be better to get it now before it dries out. I wonder if Sir Nevalle has ever dirtied his delicate hands with a scythe." The few farmers who lived here had either been killed by the Luskans or had run off during the fighting, and the few who had come back were young and more interested in joining the 'Cloaks than resuming farming. She needed to get someone to work the land before the spring planting. She smiled brightly as she thought of Orlen and his sons. "Shandra, do you know anyone in Highcliff we could persuade to move here and tend to the crops?"

She considered and replied, "I know a few we could ask."

Dee grinned as she wiped her hands on her leggings and said, "I have someone in mind in West Harbor too, and it's a good excuse to go there finally that even Lord Nasher can't argue with."

They rounded up all the scythes and sickles they could find, and Dee assigned a few of the Greycloaks to sharpen them while she went in search of workers. Casavir immediately volunteered his services as she knew he would, so Sir Nevalle did as well, albeit with obvious reluctance. Most of the small squad of Greycloaks she was given had been raised on farms (in fact, she was appalled to discover that many of them had little armor to speak of and only farm tools for weapons, not that a pitchfork couldn't do a lot of damage). Therefore, she and Shandra only had to show Nevalle and Casavir how to cut hay with a scythe without doing serious injury to themselves and others.

Dee took Casavir and Shandra took Nevalle because Dee couldn't trust herself not to muss his hair. They stood closely behind them, arms around them and hands over their hands as they instructed them in the proper swing of the blade. Casavir flushed furiously as Dee leaned against him and softly whispered instructions in his ear. Shandra and Dee whistled as Sand came to help and stripped down to his trewes and undershirt. Neeshka came to help as well, and Dee couldn't help but notice her bulging pouch as she handed her a sickle. Elanee was glad to use her silver sickle Dee made her for something other than killing. Sand wasn't capable of as much physical labor as the others, but he conjured some air elementals that gathered the cut hay into neat rolls and rolled them into the barns as Elanee called up a cooling breeze. Even Grobnar made the rounds with water and fruit then sang as they worked. Dee was amazed how much his singing lightened the work and refreshed them in the heat of the afternoon.

Bishop returned carrying a deer across his shoulders which he skinned, dressed, and placed on a grill over a fire pit to cook. He tended the meat for a while then left Elanee, who brought over some root vegetables to grill, to watch it. He stripped to his waist and grabbed a scythe from a Greycloak who was too tired to argue. They worked into the evening until they finished the hay and much of the barley then gathered around the fire pit and sat down to a feast. Neeshka produced a case of fine wines that also had been part of Garius's private stock. She had planned to sell it in the city, but she thought better of it and broke some of it out and passed the bottles around. Dee had her bring the chocolate she had found to share. Even Nevalle seemed to relax as the evening wore on and the wine took affect.

Elanee made the rounds with a poultice she had made for the sunburns those who weren't used to exposing their skins were starting to feel. Dee assigned watches, and as the fire died out they wandered off to their rooms at the Inn and their tents and fell into their bedrolls, exhausted but content. Bishop watched Dee with a lean, hungry look as she walked off with the bear towards the tent the Greycloaks insisted she take. He had seen her pause in her work and smile at him as he came through the field carrying the deer, and he caught her looking at him a couple of times while they worked. He licked his lips and considered following her and offer a back rub to see if that would get him back into her bedroll, but that damned bear turned to look at him as if reading his mind. And that was just as well, he thought. He chuckled sardonically and congratulated himself that he always was good at narrow escapes.

Wagons carrying a man Dee assumed was Master Veedle and half a dozen workers with their tools and supplies arrived early the next afternoon just as they finished cutting the oats. He was accompanied by a serious looking dark haired woman on horseback who sat ramrod straight in the saddle. She was accompanied by a score of Greycloaks.

Shandra whispered, "Ooh, is that your woman-at-arms? She's lovely!" Clearly her unrequited infatuation with Captain Brelaina was over.

Dee chuckled and said, "Come along, I'll introduce you." She waved at Casavir, who ran at once to her side.

"How can I serve you, my lady?" he asked smiling at her shyly as he tucked in his shirt, which was damp with sweat and clung to his chest and shoulders.

Dee eyed the bit of dark, curly hair poking through the front of his shirt before he tightened the laces and next brought her gaze to his broad chest, impossibly narrow waist and strong thighs and wrestled down the thought that she wished he had stripped off his shirt to work like most of the other men so she would have an excuse to rub sunburn ointment on his back. Gods, she needed to get laid, not think of molesting a defenseless paladin, and she offered up a prayer for forgiveness to Tyr. It was never like this before. It was as if Bishop had infected her with lust, and now she was at the mercy of the disease. She shook her head to clear it and said, "Cas, would you accompany me with the builder as we make an inspection of the Keep? I need your assistance asking him the right questions, and I need to know if he's being truthful with me about the repairs."

He smiled brightly and said, "It is my duty and my pleasure to assist you, my lady."

She muttered under her breath, "Yes, you say that now, but I invite you to the barn for a no-strings-attached session of relieving mutual tension and you'll probably faint." Shandra overheard her and swatted her lightly on her backside.

Casavir was about to say that he hadn't quite heard her, but the way Shandra reacted, he wisely decided he would be better off not knowing. He was used to jokes at his expense, and he bore them stoically, but he sensed that this wasn't mere jesting. Was he reading too much into the way her eyes seemed to travel across his body? He resolved to speak to the Prior when they returned to the city.

They walked over to the road and waited until the wagons came to a stop. The man jumped down off the first wagon and walked briskly up to Dee though he eyed Cillian warily. "A tall blond accompanied by a bear. My, you _are_ tall! You are Captain Farlong."

After introductions were exchanged, Dee suggested they begin the inspection at once. She turned her head and winked discreetly at Shandra as she said, "Could you show Kana and the new Greycloaks where to set up their tents? Once I'm finished with the inspection, I want to discuss the troops and their training."

Shandra smiled broadly and took Kana's arm. "Of course, right this way."

Dee turned to Master Veedle, a tall, broad muscular man with the placid expression of an ox and a genial smile. "No sense in wasting time. Your workers can set up their tents there near the Keep while we walk the grounds. Let's begin with the Keep itself." Casavir followed at a discreet distance as they talked. They made their way carefully through the building, mindful of the rubble, and Veedle cheerfully pointed out the structural damage as they went. Dee gave Casavir a subtle glance from time to time, and he nodded to let her know that Veedle was speaking the truth. They next went down the stairs to the basement to examine the foundation. Veedle thought this part of the Keep was very old, and probably dated to the Ilefarn empire. He pointed out the evidence of this found in details such as the way the stones were cut and placed. Dee was also pleased that he pointed out the channels built into the rock to carry water. Indoor plumbing! She chuckled and replied, "Now if only we had a fire elemental in the water supply." Fortunately, it appeared that the Luskans had taken pains to reinforce the part of the Keep they were using and required little work. The main damage was in the upper level and the roof, and they found some passages impassable.

Master Veedle hummed a jaunty tune as he made measurements and wrote figures on a tablet. Finally he beamed at Dee and said, "I suggest we conduct the following repair schedule. I would start with the center of the Keep, then we could restore the two wings, or we could defer that and work on something else. I would suggest rebuilding the wall. It wouldn't keep out a kobold as it stands."

Dee glanced at Casavir, who nodded slightly. "I see. How much are we talking about to rebuild the Keep and the wall?"

He made some figures, still humming softly, then finally turned the tablet for her to see the figure he had written. She wasn't surprised that it was exactly what Nasher had given her, and she gave Casavir a curious look, but he merely shrugged. She sighed and said, "Very well, there's no point in restoring just part of the Keep, but I would like you to start with the section with the library." She pondered such a well-stocked library existing in this ruin, and she finally decided the room must be air tight when the doors were closed. "Let's go look at the wall. You're right, it's not very defensible right now." She mentally calculated how much she had from her share of their takings. "I have a small amount of funds of my own that I can put towards repairs."

Casavir stepped forward and said quietly, "You may take my share as well, my lady."

Dee beamed at him. "That's very generous of you, Cas. It will help, but I'm going to need more."

Shandra joined them again as they toured the village. Veedle pointed out the buildings he recommended they start with--the smithy and some merchant shops. There was no question that she needed the smithy up and running to arm and armor her troops, so Dee requested that he rebuild it as soon as he completed the center of the Keep, before he finished the rest and before rebuilding the wall. Dee didn't see the need to rebuild the merchant shops until Veedle pointed out that it would bring badly needed funds into the Keep. Dee nodded at his wisdom and said, "So far this is all going to cost more than twice what I've been given, but you're right. It all needs to be done. One more thing--let's look at the temple. I would like it to be a priority in the rebuilding as well."

Shandra was listening and said, "I can throw in my share, and we can ask the others. I can sell the duskwood bows I've been working on too."

Dee hugged her. "Thanks, Shandra. I don't want to put the others on the spot though. If they want to donate, I'm sure we can put their gold to good use." In truth, she knew that to ask the others to help pay for the repairs might fracture their tenuous alliance. "I know what I have to do. It's my Keep, so I'm gonna sell some of my swords when we get back to the city."

Veedle, looking very chipper, ambled off to find his workers muttering, "Much to do, much to do."

Dee walked to the row of tents where the Greycloaks were camped and found Kana, who had already told Shandra she approved her captain's no nonsense short hair. Kana assembled the Greycloaks and with Shandra and Casavir they walked the line. Kana's first suggestion was that they recruit a few sergeants to drill and train the troops. Most of the recruits were young, some too young by Dee's thinking, and most had been farmers, and Dee thought a few others were too old or out of shape to train. One had prison tattoos. Another was old enough to be the grandfather of the young woman to his right. She turned to Kana and asked, "These are all new recruits?"

Kana replied coolly, "Most of them, yes. They all meet the requirements for Greycloaks in Neverwinter."

Dee looked at the tall, thin freckle-faced blond girl, her hair in braids. "How old are you, lass?"

The girl blinked and swallowed. "Twenty winters, Captain. One and twenty next month."

"Gods," Dee thought. "She looks so young, but she's my age." Dee nodded at her then stopped before two husky red haired men, the one a greying, potbellied version of the other. "Father and son, I take it?"

The older man answered, "Yes m'am. My boy couldn't be talked out of signin' up, so I signed up too. He's all I have left in the world." The swords they wore looked brand new.

Dee replied "Do you have experience with that sword?"

"None to speak of, but I do wield a mean rolling pin." He grinned at her hopefully.

"Show me," she said tersely as she drew her swords and stepped back in a defensive pose. The man stood there hesitantly and looked to his son, unsure of what to do. She swung out and stopped her blade inches from his throat. He cried out and fell back, and she brought her short sword and disarmed his son, who had drawn his sword and gone to his father's defense. She sheathed her swords. "You're out of shape, and your boy has a temper. If you had hesitated like that in battle, you and your boy would both be dead. The undead we'll be facing won't hesitate. Are you sure you wouldn't rather be working in the kitchen? I could use a good baker, and there's no dishonor in it. You would be providing a valuable service to your boy and the rest of the 'Cloaks." She offered her hand to the father and helped him to his feet. "Think about it."

Dee turned back to Kana and said, "I hold my recruits to the highest standard. They must be physically fit, and I won't take any criminals. I can use any here who are veterans and can wield a weapon, but I would rather have a small, but well trained and disciplined force that will survive the battle than a vast army of to offer as fodder for the enemy. If they're not fit, other work can be found for them so they can stay with their kin."

Casavir coughed to cover up a chuckle then leaned forward and whispered to Dee, "Someone's read Lysatean's speech before the battle of Tymmoth." In truth it had been one of Daeghun's favorite histories, one of the books he had used to teach her to read, and they had read it so many times she had committed parts of it to memory.

She whispered back, "Quiet, you!" and gave him a sly half smile as she turned her attention back to Kana. "Set the ones that have been working in the fields on a five mile run first thing in the morning and set the new troops to getting in the harvest, and reverse that the next day. I want them all to train with their weapons in the afternoon. Once the harvest is in, I want them to run every other day for the next month, and they are to practice with ranged weapons the days they don't run. I'll take any who are still here at the end of the month." Dee was no tactician, but if the histories she had read were to be believed, time and again small forces of a few hundred held off or even defeated thousands. She just hoped to the gods they were true and not embellished.

At Lathander's first light the next morning, Dee rose and went to the ruined temple where she picked her way through the rubble and knelt to pray for guidance, first to Meilikki, then to Tyr. She assembled the troops and personally led them on the run while Shandra was left to supervise those working in the fields. Casavir joined them and Sir Nevalle as well, and to her surprise he kept up with them. She had sent Cillian to follow through the fields and scare any stragglers back into formation, but a few gave up and braved the bear. That afternoon they brought out all the practice weapons they could find and several padded covers for the real weapons, and they trained with the recruits until the sun was near the western horizon when she released them to their supper and their bedrolls.

In their tent, Dee and Shandra traded back rubs and talked about the day. "Well, they all survived but two want to quit, and not the older man I thought would be the first to drop. He's a tough old bird. Oh, and we've gained a baker who's acting as the head cook for now. He was happy to settle into his room next to the kitchen and get to sleep in a real bed tonight instead of on the ground." She sighed as they traded places and Shandra kneaded her shoulders. She had been thinking about the man and his devotion to his son to follow him to a war and possibly to his death.

"What's wrong?" You've been quiet all evening," Shandra asked as she dug her elbow into a particularly tight spot.

Dee replied, "It's nothin'. Just wondering if my father would ever follow me here like that."


	16. Too Many Choices

Chapter 16: So Many Choices, So Little Coin

or Nasher sucks all the fun out of shopping.

Note: I took the discussion of how a paladin might deal with carnal urges from an answer Ed Greenwood gave on the subject of paladins and sex at Candlekeep dot com, in which he discussed the subject at length.

The Luskans had left enough weapons and armor behind to equip some of the recruits as long as they didn't have any qualms about wearing armor that the previous wearer died in, so that was one less headache for Dee. After giving Kana orders to train the recruits and garrison the Keep and not to even think about sending them out on patrols yet, they set out for Neverwinter the following morning on horseback. They escorted the wagons that Master Veedle and Kana had brought, which were laden with Lord Nasher's tithe of the harvest. Thus the journey to Neverwinter, which they could have accomplished in just under a day and a half on horseback took nearly as long as if they had been on foot. Only Casavir and surprisingly, Sand were accomplished riders, though Dee and Shandra had both ridden plow horses a few times. Everyone was on horseback except Sand, who lounged on a cushion surrounded by baskets of produce in the back of the lead wagon reading a dusty tome he had liberated from the Keep's library, and Elanee, Grobnar and Neeshka, who sat in the second wagon on top of a pile of hay.

The gnome worked on a new song, plucking the same melody over and over. After a morning of this, the teamster driving that wagon scowled darkly, cursed, and threatened to strangle Grobnar with his lute strings. Dee narrowly avoided gnomicide by calling out, "Oi! Grobby, give us a song! How about _The Ballad of the Drover and the Milkmaid_?" It was lewd enough to entertain the teamsters, but not so much as to invoke the admonishment of the paladin. Dee found herself being more mindful of his sensibilities lately.

Grobnar beamed angelically at Dee and started to play it. "Always happy to play requests, Captain."

It was a warm, drowsy autumn afternoon of the second day on the trail, and they rode along lazily. The only sound was the occasional buzz of an insect and Grobnar's incessant plucking of the strings. As they came around a bend in the road, the lead teamster held up his hand and signaled a stop. Dee was distracted adding up in her mind for the twentieth time the funds she had on hand along with what she thought she could get from her swords and Shandra's bows and comparing that amount with the cost of different rebuilding scenarios, as well as what she needed to purchase in the city.

She rode ahead to see what was wrong, followed by Cillian, Shandra and Casavir, as the teamster peered nervously into the roadside brush and trees and reached for a cudgel he kept on the seat next to him. There was a tree lying across the road, and it only took the most casual of glances to see that it hadn't fallen naturally. To no one's s surprise, a dozen bandits immediately sprang from the brush sensing easy prey, merchants or farmers taking their harvest to market. It looked like from movement in the brush that there were at least as many more hiding. Bishop cursed and put an arrow through the leader's eye and another through his throat just after the man shouted "Stand and Deliver!," which gave them no choice but to fight.

In the aftermath as they dragged the corpses to the side of the road Dee growled, "Next time, don't attack until I give the signal, Bish! They might have surrendered! We don't have to slaughter everyone who crosses our paths!"

"Oh, I'm so sorry, Captain," he replied snidely. "Next time I'll wait until they kill one of you before I loose my arrows. I'm just trying to do my part and cover your ass when you charge to the front and get reckless."

"I'm just saying we don't have to kill every bandit we run across. We do plenty of killing as it is," Dee replied tersely as she helped Casavir, Shandra, and the teamsters muscle the tree aside while Elanee and Sand put out a fire in the brush started by one of Sand's spells.

Neeshka paused from looting corpses to interject matter-of-factly, "If we hadn't stopped them, Dee, they would have just preyed on someone else, so if you think about it, we probably save some merchants' lives."

Dee sighed and said, "You're right, Neesh. I'm sorry, I'm just getting weary of all the killin'. Thanks, that was a good shot, Bish, and I'm glad you're watchin' my ass when I get reckless."

He returned her a tight smile and said, "Just trying to do my part, Captain. Always happy to watch your ass." He stared at her for a reaction and was rewarded by a guilty half smile. Good, he was getting to her. If he played his cards right, he might be able to get some guilt sex out of it when they got to the city, but then he remembered his objective was regaining her trust. He had to tread carefully and bide his time until he could find out how much Duncan had told her. "You're getting soft, Bishop. It was stupid letting a wench get under your skin like this," he chided himself. "There'll be plenty of tail to chase in the city from women who won't expect anything but a few coins." He looked her over, noting how the attractive farm-fed country plumpness she had when she first arrived had all but melted away to be replaced by taught skin over lean muscle and thought, "Besides, with the short hair and the muscle she's put on, she's starting to look too much like a boy."

Casavir watched frowning but silently, astounded yet again not only by how manipulative Bishop could be, but also by how oblivious Dee was to it. But the last time he had tried to warn her she accused him of jealousy, and as he had thought it over during the months they had traveled together, he realized she was right. Even so, he would tell her the same thing today if she asked, convinced as he was that Bishop was doubly dangerous now that he no longer shared her bed. He could think of no good reason for the ranger to have remained with them unless it was in hopes of getting her to take him back, or unless he had some ulterior motive. Unfortunately, that train of thought led to thoughts of sharing her bed himself. He offered a silent prayer to Tyr for strength in overcoming his lustful feelings before they led him astray again. He had nearly fallen from grace once, and if not for his Lord's blessing, he might have died trying to redeem himself at Old Owl Well. It would not happen again.

As she climbed back into the saddle Dee asked, "Elanee, can you scout ahead by air? Come on, let's get back on the road."

They pulled into the city the next afternoon, and Neeshka hurled herself off the wagon and kissed the ground as soon as they passed through the gate. Dee laughed loudly at her then said, "Someone's glad to be back. I'll take this to the castle and return the horses and wagons and meet you back at the Flagon. No need for you all to go along."

Casavir said, "You will need help unloading the wagons, m'lady."

She smiled at him and said, "I don't plan to unload this myself, you know. Lord Nasher has people for that, but thanks."

Sand picked bits of hay and horse hair off his robe with a look of utter disgust and said, "I so want to see the look on the Quartermaster's face when you make your delivery, but I really must look in on my shop, and then I need a long bath."

Neeshka squealed, "Ooh, yes, a bath! With bubbles, Sand?" She helped Grobnar down, and as they scampered off like children chasing the shaved ice cart, she called back over her shoulder, "I'll make sure there's a hot bowl of something other than trail rations and a bath waiting for you, Dee!"

Dee chuckled and called back, "Sounds good!"

She turned back around and saw a startled-looking Elanee holding the reins to Bishop's horse, and he was striding quickly towards the entrance of Madam Enid's, one of the district's most economically priced festhalls. "Gods, he could catch something there," she mumbled, but then she reminded herself he wasn't her problem anymore, and what was more, what he did and who he did it with was no longer any of her business either. Elanee took charge of the horses to return them, and the rest of them drove through the city to the Blacklake district, where they took the service road to Castle Never. Dee announced to the guard at the gate with no small amount of self importance and satisfaction, "Captain Farlong from Crossroads Keep with the Lord's tithe from the harvest."

They unloaded the wagons and returned the horses in no time and walked back down the service road towards the gate leading out of the district. Dee glanced longingly at the back of Lord Tavorick's estate as they passed and paused.

"Is there something wrong, my lady?" Casavir inquired.

Dee flushed and replied with just a small lie, "I was thinking of stopping by to see how his lordship is recovering." She was concerned about him, but she also wanted to ask him about the woman in the painting in his chamber. She really didn't know what she wanted beyond that, even if she was granted entrance and he allowed her to see it again. She wasn't ready to face another knowing look at the mention of her mother's name and a searching look at her face as much as she wanted to see the portrait and more, take it with her. She continued on and said, "I don't want to stop in before I bathe and wash off the trail dust."

"That would be best," Casavir replied with a soft smile. "Remember, the nobility doesn't sweat, they perspire, and they certainly don't smell, so you can't go in there reeking of sweat and covered with dust and expect to be admitted, even if we did save his life."

Dee sniffed under her arm less than discreetly, gasped, and said, "I thought that was the horse. All right, I see your point. You all can go ahead then. I still want to stop off at the armorer and weapon smiths' shops on the way back and see if I can't persuade someone to come to work for us at the Keep for next to nothing. At least they're not likely to be offended by the smell of sweat."

Shandra laughed and replied, "Just keep telling yourself that as they step back from you discreetly, or not. Better to get a bath and put on some paint and some clean clothes, something like that blue bodice that pushes you up just right, and some silk leggings. They are men, after all. Right, Casavir?"

Casavir coughed and replied hoarsely, "Not all men are mindless slaves to the female form, Shandra."

Dee chuckled and swatted her on her backside. "Bad squire's squire! Stop teasing the paladin! Fine, let's go to the Flagon." She hesitated again as she remembered her other purpose for coming here. "We need to stop at the Watch headquarters first though and meet this mysterious prisoner to see what she has to say, and I don't care what she thinks I smell like. This shouldn't take too long, and anyway I hate to think of her languishing in the gaol needlessly."

Casavir replied thoughtfully, "You are right, but perhaps it would be better to take Sand with us, m'lady. He may be helpful in asking the right questions of her just as I can attest to the truth of what she says."

Dee raised an eyebrow and said, "You two are just bound and determined that we head back to the Flagon. Very well then. I just hope I don't smell too bad for Uncle Duncan to let us in."

So after a quick hug from Duncan, who couldn't tell what they smelled like anyway through the reek of ale emanating from his clothes, Dee shoveled down a bowl of rabbit stew and a slab of cornbread slathered with butter. She went to the women's bath and quickly washed; no time for a leisurely soak, she told Neeshka, who was still there. As she stepped out of the women's bath she collided with Casavir, who was coming out of the men's. He grabbed her shoulder to steady her, as she put her hand on his chest. He flushed furiously and looked at the floor and muttered, "Forgive me," before he ran to his room.

Cillian chuffed a bearish laugh as Dee blushed and drew her towel tighter. What was it about him? Normally she could stand in a towel before Nasher's whole court and not be embarrassed. Well maybe a little. Daeghun had taught her as early as she could remember that she shouldn't be ashamed of her body. It was the elven way. She recalled one time on the way back from Old Owl Well after a battle with bearbugs that she had knelt by a stream and stripped to the waist to wash the drying blood from her shirt. Khelgar, Grobnar, and Casavir had all objected loudly as they averted their eyes. Dee had snorted and said, "What? Ain't like 'tis anything you all haven't seen before, and I need to wash off the blood before it attracts bugs!" At least Elanee had backed her up by stripping down herself. She sighed. It had occurred to her later that night that perhaps Casavir _hadn't_ seen a semi-nude woman before and she had apologized. If it wasn't for the gossip she had heard from Sir Grayson's current boy about Casavir and Ophala, she might still think that. "Poor Cas, I'll have to get a robe before I leave the city so that doesn't happen at the Keep," she thought.

She went to her room and knelt beside her trunk pulling out clothes then discarding them onto the bed and the floor, then she chose a pair of black silk leggings, a white shirt with a drawstring neckline that she tied loose and low, then the sapphire blue bodice which she laced tightly, bending forward as she did to let her breasts fall forward so it would give her the right lift. She broke out her paint box and carefully drew thick lines around her eyes with her dark blue kohl stick, painted her lips and cheeks crimson, and finished with a dusting of powder. She ran her brush through her hair, which was almost dry already. She missed her braid, but she couldn't believe how easy it was to care for short hair. She was about to put on her spectacles but thought better of it, not wanting to give the impression of having more money than she did. She turned and checked herself over in the mirror and cursed under her breath and muttered, "Oh yeah, they'll take me seriously dressed like this."

She washed off most of the paint, stripped and put on her leathers and her harvest cloak, and looked at herself again. Satisfied with the result, she grabbed a rucksack filled with her share of what they had taken from the bandits and from the Luskans at the Keep, took two of her swords she used the least, grabbed her Watch cloaks to turn in, and went to meet the others in the common room.

Neeshka met her with a mug of mead, which Dee drained without thinking. Neeshka watched her for a few minutes as she toyed with her tail then asked, "So Dee, how long are we going to be here before we leave for West Harbor?" The tiefling clearly didn't relish the thought of another long journey on horseback.

Dee thought about it and replied, "At least a couple of days, and I'm stopping off at the Keep to see how things are going on the way. Otherwise, I'd go with my original plan and take a ship to Highcliff and rent horses there." Dee sighed. "Horses...that's something else we should invest in with as much running back and forth as we'll probably be doin'. I'll talk to the hostler at the stable about it." She reflexively rubbed her backside which gave a twinge of protest at the thought of getting back in the saddle. "That'll be another sword to pay for them." Neeshka's sat there quietly still toying nervously with her tail and her real meaning seeped in to Dee's consciousness. Dee walked over, put an arm around her and said, "I can see how you don't want to leave your home to run around the swamp or be stuck at the ruin. I'll understand if you want to stay here, Neesh, but I'll miss you a lot."

Neeshka sighed. Dee had a way of getting her, and besides, she was one of the few friends the tiefling had ever had who liked her for herself and not for what she could do for her. "Leave you on your own? Someone has to keep the yokel from being taken advantage of. Besides, I'm dying to see Wyl Mossfield. And there's not much challenge here now that I'm the top thief in the city and retired." That was true enough, but Neeshka had also been warned by one of her old associates that killing Leldon had made her a target for every young thug in the city who wanted to make a name.

Dee hugged her and replied with a wink, "Don't worry, Neesh. I'll find you something exciting and only moderately dangerous to do at the Keep, I promise. Master Veedle even thinks there's an old sewer system from the ruins that were there before my ruin was there. Then there's that escape tunnel, and probably some others besides. There's a lot you can explore."

Dee had arranged to meet Sand and Casavir at the Watch headquarters. Casavir had gone directly to the temple after he had bathed and changed, and Sand had muttered something about getting the smell of horse out of his robes as she left him. Taking Duncan aside in the store room, Dee discussed giving over the running of the _Phoenix Tail Inn_ to Sal. "You were my first choice, Uncle, but I figured it would take a crate of blast globes to get you to leave the Flagon."

Duncan laughed and replied, "Yer a good lass, Dee. Sal's wanted to get his own place for years, and with custom dropping off in the neighborhood, I was afraid I was gonna have t' let him go anyway. So this works out to both our advantage."

She pulled him into a bear hug and said softly, "I'm gonna miss you, Uncle, but I'll look in on you when I come back to the city."

He hugged her back. "You just take care of yourself, lass, and remember, you can say "no" to his Lordship." Like Shandra, he saw the bestowing of the Keep on his niece as a dubious honor. He reached down and scuffed Cillian's neck. "You keep an eye on her for me." The bear just chuffed at him as if to say, "duh." Duncan looked at her with his mouth open as if about to say something else. After a few minutes' hesitation, he asked, "Bishop goin' with you, lass?"

She raised an eyebrow. "Don't know. He's been civil enough of late. We haven't talked about it, but I assumed he was comin'. What's wrong, Uncle?"

He swallowed and said, "You and Bishop aren't together anymore. Lass, there's things I should probably tell you..." She darkened and was about to cut him off. Just then, they were startled by a loud crash then shouts coming from the kitchen. He cursed as he broke the hug and rushed from the storeroom with Dee and Cillian right behind him.

They came upon Glenn and Derry, two of Wolf's crew, coming to blows in the kitchen over who had knocked over a large stew pot. Dee grabbed one boy and Duncan grabbed the other and they pulled the two cursing boys apart. After a struggle to get them under control, Duncan growled, "I don't care who did it, just get it cleaned up now, both of you!" He let his prisoner go, then Dee did the same. He took Dee by the elbow and pulled her out of earshot then asked, "What about Wolf and his crew, lass? Glenn's not a bad cook and bar boy, and he works cheap. I could keep a few of them on...Molly and Callie have become good housemaids and are about old enough to wait tables, and I could keep all three on for less than I pay Sal now. But what of the rest if you're not here to employ 'em? I swear their numbers grow every week too."

Dee frowned guiltily and rubbed her pounding forehead as her headache had given birth to a litter of new yapping pain and replied, "Aye, Uncle, I brought them here so they're my responsibility. I could use 'em as pages at the Keep, and I've a mind to train Wolf as a ranger. For a lad born and raised in the city, he's very good at tracking and a natural with animals. Don't worry about it, Uncle. I'll talk to Wolf presently."

So before she left the tavern, she pulled Wolf aside into the storeroom and explained the situation. She knew quite a bit of his and the others' backgrounds only because she had asked, and he was young enough to trust her (more than a certain ranger and a certain paladin anyway) and comfortable enough with her to know she wasn't going to turn them over to the Watch, or worse. He was a practical lad, older than he looked, like most of his crew thanks to years of malnutrition. He had lived by his wits for several of his fifteen years after his parents had been killed in the war and he was sent to an orphanage that was little more than a workhouse, from which he had led an escape a scant year later. He had told her how he had taken over the running of his crew for the past two years after the previous leader had the misfortune to pick the wrong house to burgle and the wrong chest to open, leaving him and two others of the crew a greasy ash spot on the floor. He also knew an opportunity when he saw one. He shrugged and said, "Crossroads Keep? Sounds posh, miss. Pages? Mayhap some of us could even be squires some day! When do we leave?"

She grinned at him and said, "Not for a few days probably." She looked at the state of his tattered clothes and said, "On the morrow I want you to take your crew with Neeshka to buy some warmer clothes, a cloak, and a pair of sturdy shoes each." As he left she sighed and thought, "Yeah, I'm gonna have to sell another sword for sure," and ran back to her room to get one.

* * *

Casavir sat uncomfortably in Prior Hlam's office, his arms folded tightly over his chest as if he could physically hold his emotions inside. He kept his blue eyes trained down at the floor. "Can you see my dilemma, Prior? I feel our Lord has given me the quest to help stop the King of Shadows and fight at her side. Yet I can't control my feelings for her. I find myself rushing to her side in battle to protect her. I pray for strength, but the feelings have gotten stronger. I despise myself for my weakness."

The Prior toyed with his small, neat mustache as he listened. He put an arm around Casavir's shoulder and said, "You are a healthy young man. It is natural for you to have carnal urges. Have you spoken to her, and does she return your feelings?"

He shook his head silently. The Prior sighed and said, "Are you afraid of being rejected?"

Casavir looked up and met the Prior's eyes and nodded in assent. He sat there rubbing his upper arms for several minutes until he said, "I am encouraged by changes I have seen in her since her vigil here. I truly feel our Lord touched her heart that night, Prior. Since then she tries to limit her cursing, I don't think she's been in one tavern brawl, and she has curtailed her consumption of strong drink. She actually blushed when I came upon her leaving the bath this evening. However, she has just ended an affair, and it would be too soon to approach her. I also don't think she's interested in anything more than a tryst."

Prior Hlam shrugged and said, Unless you've taken a vow of celibacy, my suggestion would be to arrange a session with one of your sisters here at the temple for mutual release. You know it is allowed." He coughed then added, "Moreover, you could also relieve the tension manually. Our Lord understands, Casavir, and what's more, let me be clear that it is not a sin, despite what you may have been told." He watched the young paladin, wondering what his home life had been like before he was sent to the temple. A domineering, prudish parent or other authority figure? He knew human nature well enough to know that was usually the root of such deep emotional constipation.

Casavir shook his head vigorously. "No, I'm afraid that would only inflame my passions further, Prior. I would still think of her whether I was with another woman, which would not be fair to either of them or..." He flushed and was silent for a moment, toying with his holy symbol, then added, "You know how things went last time I allowed myself a tryst. I can't see the good in having such feelings. They only serve to distract me from my devotion to Tyr."

The Prior nodded sadly and reached into a drawer, pulled out a small cloth bag, and handed it to Casavir, who opened the bag and withdrew a small ebony scourge with half a dozen knotted leather thongs. "Very well then. First of all, I admonish you to forgive yourself for your youthful indiscretion. Our Lord has, and he would not want you to dwell upon the past. Take this. Use this no more than thrice a tenday and give yourself no more than ten lashes. You can serve our Lord best if you're not too sore to raise your sword arm. I expect you to see me or Judge Oleff when you're in the city so you may be counseled further. He's taken an interest in your captain. However my son, I would like you to meditate upon how joining your heart to the right person can strengthen rather than weaken your faith."

He stood and said softly, "Thank you, Prior. I will do as you advise."

He walked Casavir to the door, where Dee, Shandra, and Sand were waiting for him. The Prior greeted Dee warmly, taking her hand and kissing her cheek then extracting a promise from her that she would be at the morning service, and reassuring her with a chuckle that in his opinion she wasn't committing spiritual adultery on Meilikki. He watched as they walked away and thought grimly that if he hadn't given the warning, the young paladin would likely scourge himself every night until he was raw. He resolved to speak to Judge Oleff and ask him to add Casavir and the young captain to his daily prayer list.

Dee seemed disheartened as they walked to the Watch headquarters. After a few silent minutes and an exchange of glances among her companions, Dee finally blurted out, "I couldn't find one armorer, smith, or merchant willing to come with us. Repko said he could part with one of his apprentices, but I got the feeling the lad wasn't his smartest one. Maybe I should ask Deekin."

Shandra replied matter-of-factly, "Mayhap you should ask Deekin. I think he would jump at the chance to get a real shop with a roof and four walls to keep out the weather, even if it is at a decrepit shithole of a Keep."

Sand sniffed indignantly with a toss of his hair thrown in for emphasis, "I still cannot believe that a kobold was able to get a stall in the Merchant Quarter when I could not. Where is the justice, I ask you."

Dee put an arm around him and said, "You're far too clever of a mage to waste your time running a shop, Sand. And I need you anyway at the Keep to go through the library before Aldanon gets there and he misplaces half the books."

Shandra smiled brightly as Casavir opened the door for them and they walked in. She exclaimed, "I know who to ask! Let's talk to Edario in Highcliff! He's been complaining for years about feeling like he was wasting his talents there."

Dee returned a relieved grin and said, "Couldn't hurt since we're passing through there anyway, and that reminds me of a smith we met at Fort Locke too. I can't recall his name, Jake? Jacoby?, Khel would remember, something like that. Now that I think about it, he complained of the same thing, not enough work for him even at a fort. Couldn't hurt to ask or see if any of the refugees there want to farm at the Keep as well!" She smiled happily, though inwardly she cautioned herself not to get her hopes up.

Cormick hauled himself heavily to his feet to greet them. He had lost quite a bit of weight, his eyes were ringed with dark shadows, and was still too pale for Dee's liking, more like a shaky calf than the bull of a man he had been. She was happy he was well enough to return to work considering he had had a smoking hole in his gut. She gave him a big hug, and after an exchange of small talk about his health and the Keep and whether she might make it to West Harbor before the harvest faire, Dee said, "Well, where's this mysterious prisoner of yours?"

Cormick scratched his head and said warily, "Yeah, about her, Dee. Zhjaeve's staying in the infirmary, and I sent Jenks to run and get Aldanon when I saw you comin' so he could explain the situation, so we should wait for him to get here. Oh, one more thing. You need to leave your swords in my office until he's explained, and the bear too."

Dee and her companions looked at each other in surprise, not sure how to take that. "If you say so, Cormick. Zhjaeve? What kind of name is that?" she thought aloud as she removed her sword belt and laid it on his desk. There was something familiar about the sound of it, but try as she might, she couldn't place it.

* * *

Once Dee had thought better of it, she had assigned Shandra and Neeshka both the task the next day of clothing the half dozen of Wolf's urchins who were willing (and eager) to go to the Keep, fearing that Neeshka would give in to adolescent whining to buy stylish rather than functional clothing and shoes. Neeshka knew better though, having once been a cold, hungry, shoeless urchin herself. Dee also sent her new "ally" Zhjaeve along with them for the same reason--those sandals had to go! She suspected it was much warmer on the Astral plane judging from how she dressed. Poor woman had probably never seen snow before.

She still wasn't sure what to make of the woman behind the veil. Aldanon had launched into a lengthy explanation about rocks being split in two and before he could thoroughly confuse her, Dee had stopped him and said, "Tis like elves--there are drow, and copper, and moon, and gold elves, but my foster father says they were once one people." Sand sniffed and Aldanon thought that wasn't quite the right analogy, but it was clear enough for Dee. Over everyone's, even Bishop's objections (but not Cillian's, who declared he would allow her to share their den), she asked the githzerai to stay in her room until they were ready to leave so she could get to know her better. "Casavir said she was speaking the truth. I might even let filthy orcs join up with us at this point if they can help us defeat the King of Shadows."

Dee took the opportunity to ask Casavir what he thought of her as they walked to the morning service at the temple. "You don't think she's leading us into an ambush like Bishop says, do you? Aldanon admitted he didn't know much about githzerai, and it could be they're as fanatical about getting back my shards as the githyanki."

Casavir shook his head and replied, "No, not at all. Even that githyanki who had Shandra abducted was very concerned about the King of Shadows' threat not only to us here, but also to them on their plane. It stands to reason that the githzerai would also be aware of the threat and want to counter it."

"Thanks, my friend, that puts my mind at ease, and I hope she doesn't mind riding a horse, because I figure I'll have plenty of time to get to know her if I take her to West Harbor." Dee smiled and patted his back, which made him wince. "What did you do, practice too hard this morning?" she inquired, frowning with worry.

He recoiled from her touch and flushed scarlet. "It is nothing to concern yourself with, m'lady."

Dee diplomatically changed the subject, wondering why he was so touchy. "I wonder if Deekin will take me up on the offer. He seemed pretty excited last night, but he's had time to think better of it. I made a list of what we need still for the Keep, which I have to tell you leaves me feeling overwhelmed. Later can you go over my list and see if I forgot anything? Oh, and remind me to remind Qara to get anything she thinks she's going to need just in case the princess decides to come to the Keep. If I know her, she'll feign indifference until the last minute when the wagons are pulling away, but I suspect she doesn't want to be alone with her former classmates no matter how powerful she thinks she is."

She purchased fried dough bites sprinkled with cinnamon and sugar from a stall for them to eat on the way and chattered on about anything she could think of, giving him a sidelong glance from time to time to see if she had gotten him to relax. She drew up sharply as they passed one of her favorite shops and gasped with an audible "Oooh," as she saw a nightgown made of white silk trimmed with silver cording and lace in hanging the window, muttering, "And I'll just bet she has that in my size too for a change."

Dee showed remarkable restraint and didn't go into the shop until after the service on the way back, and even then, they had walked half a block past the shop before she remembered she wanted to buy a robe and ran back, glad to have an excuse.

Casavir rolled his eyes heavenward but waited patiently outside until she returned, thinking he would never understand women's fascination with shopping. "Was it available in your size then?" he asked as she came out, trying not to imagine her wearing it.

She shrugged and looked away as she said, "Yeah, but 'twas a bit more than I care to spend right now, and 'tis not like I need anything like that anyway when we're going to be spendin' the next few tendays traveling. And with winter comin' on, 'tis not practical either. I did find a bargain on the robe I went in for though." It was such a good excuse she almost believed it too. She opened her bag and held up a plain dove gray flannel robe. "Now you need not fear the bath, my dear paladin." She put it away and missed his momentary disappointed look.

He glanced back down the street and said, "That reminds me that I too need some socks and small clothes. Would you excuse me?"

"I'll go with you. I don't mind waiting while you shop," she said helpfully.

He flushed again and said tersely, "That's quite all right. I will meet you at the tavern." She watched him walk away quickly as if he was being chased by fiends. She turned to Cillian and asked, "Did I offend or embarrass him?" She sighed and headed over to Deekin's shop to see if he had come to his senses and changed his mind.

Casavir looked back over his shoulder to see if she was out of sight then just as quickly strode back to the shop, looked around to make sure no one he knew was about, and stepped inside. He walked briskly to the shopkeeper and said, "The tall blond woman who was just in--I would like to purchase...what she was looking at." He couldn't even bring himself to say the word "nightgown." Flushing and feeling foolish as he remembered his lie, he paid, snatched the package from the clerk, and left the shop at a run to the safety of a nearby men's clothing merchant.

Now that it was done he saw the problem in giving it to her. He bought himself a dozen pairs of thick wool socks and as many pairs of small clothes as well as a sturdy black wool jerkin, already regretting his impulsive purchase. But he couldn't return it. What if the clerk said something about it next time Dee was in the city? Yet he could not give it to her either. At the time, he was simply touched by the sacrifice she was making for the sake of her duty, but as the impulse faded away, he realized to his chagrin what such a gift would suggest. Seeing no other solution and feeling like an utter coward, he shoved the package into the bottom of his rucksack when he got back to the tavern, pulled it back out, then shoved it away again.

But that evening as he brooded over his foolishness, it occurred to him that she might change her mind and go back to the shop to buy it after all, and then he would be found out. He took out the package a final time and walked to her room, rapping hesitantly on her door.

Dee answered the door with Cillian on her heels, a quill in one hand and a long list in the other wearing the flannel robe, open, over her old nightshirt that she had brought with her from West Harbor. She gave him a puzzled look and said, "Oh good, I was thinkin' of bringin' this down to your room and here you are. Why are you here? I mean...not that I'm not happy to see you. Is something wrong?"

He thrust the package at her flushing crimson and stammered, "I...you..." He swallowed then summoned his courage. "I felt bad that you had to deny yourself that gown..." He took another breath and continued, "When the one you're wearing is worn and patched, so I...please don't think me forward m'lady." Feeling emboldened, he continued as she took the package and opened it and gasped. "I didn't think about what such a gift would suggest."

She held it up and chuckled then said, "Cas, I trust you more than anyone not to have ulterior motives, well anyone but Grobby mayhap. Thanks, and I'll take it on one condition."

He was staring studiously at a knot at the floorboard. "What is it, m'lady?"

"My name is Dee, and I'd like you to use it. M'lady is so formal, and we're friends, are we not? Besides, folks in West Harbor will think I'm puttin' on airs if they hear you call me that."

He smiled despite his discomfort and said, "I can do that, m...Dee. Let me take that list, and I'll return it on the morrow."

He turned and walked to his room, picking up speed once he was out of sight and closing and barring the door. Then he knelt next to his bed and said his evening prayers. When he was finished, he stripped to the waist and withdrew the small bag holding the scourge from his rucksack and hoped that ten strokes would be sufficient.


	17. Finding the Perfect Mount

Chapter 17 Finding the Perfect Mount

(No, not that kind of mount, at least for now.)

Usual disclaimer: Most of Malin's lines are paraphrased from the OC script and are therefore Obsidian's, as are most of the characters except Dee and Cillian, and Ma Birney.

According to the hostler at the stable down the street from the Flagon, the best place to buy horses in the area, and in his opinion, on the whole Sword Coast apart from Amphail, was at Birney's farm outside of Port Llast. Sir Grayson also confirmed that he had bought all of his horses there, so Dee resolved to sell another of her dwindling supply of swords and catch a ship bound for Port Llast that same afternoon. Besides, she told herself, how many swords did she need when it came down to it? She had two favorites that she used most of the time, the short sword enchanted by Elanee and Sand to add fire and acid damage, and the long sword which harnessed the power of lightning and ice. Elanee had also called upon Silvanus to bless it with his godly power. Deee told Shandra, "I can always make more once I'm back at the Keep and mayhap somehow reforge the shards into some kind of sword." Wishful thinking she knew in her heart, but when she held the remnants of the sword in her hands the hope refused to die.

Only Shandra, Casavir, and Elanee were accompanying her, as well as Zhjaeve because Dee didn't want the poor woman stuck in her room after she had already been locked up at the Watch headquarters. As much as she didn't quite trust her yet, (and was annoyed by her insistence on calling her "Kalach-cha" rather than by her name), she also pitied the woman being alone in a strange world. She shared this concern with Elanee who understood being still ill at ease living in the city even after months, thus creating an instant bond between the two. She felt guilty about subjecting the four of them to another half a tenday of travel while the others got to rest, but she needed their help in selecting the horses and getting them back to the city.

In addition, Dee asked Wolf to come along because she wanted to show the lad life outside the city and test her instincts about him. She had allayed his fears about his pack of urchins by asking Neeshka to take charge of them to make sure they had gathered their meager belongings and keep them out of trouble until they returned. She found it sweet that a boy of his age watched over the rest of them as if they were his own children. She also thought it would be good for the tiefling to have some responsibility. Neeshka forestalled any objections from the rest by taking them aside and whispering, "Now, now my sneaky little monkeys, while they're gone it's time to show me what you know and learn a thing or two if you're up to the challenge!" She had promised Dee she would retire after the Collector job, but old habits die hard, and there would be little to keep her skills sharp at the Keep.

Sand and Sal were already preparing to leave, traveling together for safety as well as convenience. Sand couldn't wait to get his hands on the many rare texts in the library, and he had a wagon half filled with crates, barrels, and chests of his equipment and belongings, though Dee suspected that much of it was a decoy and he was making use of at least one _bag of holding_ for the most valuable equipment.

After speaking with Neeshka about the state of the stock of the Phoenix Tail then conferring with Duncan, Sal had bought a few barrels of inexpensive ale and wine and a few cases of spirits, as well as brewing supplies and enough basic foodstuffs to get him started. He also hired a cook, a widow who had helped out occasionally at the Flagon to run his kitchen, and Dee jumped at the chance to hire her sister and daughter to cook for her Greycloaks. Like most poor residents of this part of the city, none of the women had much in the way of possessions worth bringing apart from a few thin feather beds, so they were able to fit everything else into one old, battered trunk held closed with a belt.

Dee thought it prudent to join with a merchant caravan, but none were leaving for almost another tenday, and Sal and Sand were anxious to get to the Keep. Dee pulled Sand aside and voiced her concerns. "I'm really nervous about you going alone without an armed escort. There's been no authority on that road for far too long, and bandits think they run the land. And I've had reports of orcs, bugbears, and trolls."

But Sand simply smiled inscrutably as he traced a delicate finger down her forehead and massaged her between her eyebrows and said, "Dear girl, you're giving yourself a frown line right here much too soon. You should know me well enough by now to know that I have a multitude of spells to hide our passage altogether, or give the illusion that we are not worth bothering with. I can even cast _Haste_ on the horses to get us there faster, though the passengers might object. Perhaps I'll put them into a deep slumber. Do not fret too much about us, dear girl. My biggest problem is going to be getting the dust and horse hair out of my robes again." In truth, as much as he complained constantly about the travel and the peril to his life, Sand was feeling more energized than he had in years, and he relished the thought of casting spells he had not had any use for in decades. There was a purposeful glint in his eye that Dee hadn't seen before. He was as giddy as he had been in the aftermath of the trial as he made his preparations.

Dee chuckled and said, "Good reason to buy sensible traveling robes, my dear Sand. I suppose I should really worry about us traveling without your assistance. I can see it now: Qara being mauled by Elanee in the form of a dire bear after she sets the forest on fire with a fireball thrown in a fit of pique or boredom. We'll see you there, and I'll remember your warning not to get too much of the local culture on my boots in Port Llast."

Sand looked thoughtful for a moment and replied, "Well, you could always drug and gag Qara, or I could give you a _wand of sleep_ to use any time she stirs. If it were me, I'd leave the little girl here, but I suppose she needs minding. Has she said she intends to go with you?"

Dee replied, "No, she's feigning indifference, but I expect she'll declare she's decided we'll be helpless without her powerful spellcasting ability and hop aboard just as we're pulling out. She doesn't have much to keep her here. She's estranged from her father and has no other family to speak of, so I suppose she'll see she's stuck with us." Dee kissed him on the cheek, handed him a letter for Kana introducing Sal and the cooks, and watched as they made the four women as comfortable as they could on top of the rolled up feather beds and blankets in the wagons and settled Sand's cat in its wicker basket under the seat. "Four women?" Dee muttered as she shook her head and counted again. Sal shrugged and said, "She had another daughter, so I decided I could use a maid too." She watched as they set out onto the road leading out of the city until they got out of sight then hurried to meet her companions at the dock.

They set sail at high tide, and as was her habit Dee was leaning over the rail breathing in the fresh sea breeze and watching the city recede with a wide, child-like grin on her face. She beamed and exclaimed, "Isn't this grand?" to Zhjaeve, whose only response was to retch over the side. Thanks to a strong wind from the southwest that blew all that night and the next day with a fierce bite that hinted at the winter to come, they arrived in Port Llast half a day ahead of schedule.

It was a cool evening, and as they walked into town from the dock they decided to stay the night at the _Alliance Arms Inn_ and leave at first light, though Dee grumbled that they should save the coin and camp outside the town. The farm was about a couple of hours' walk south, and with any luck they would conclude their business there and be back in Neverwinter in a few days. "Alright, we'll need three rooms then. Wolf, you can stay with Cas, Shandra with me, and Zhjaeve with El."

Wolf swallowed nervously and pulling her aside, whispered to Dee, "If 'tis all the same, captain, I'll sleep down here in front of the fire or on the floor in your room."

Dee smiled and ruffled his hair as she whispered back, "Don't worry, he won't force you to pray half the night."

Wolf scowled and replied "'Tis not that."

Dee glanced over her shoulder to make sure they were out of earshot and asked, "What is it, lad? You can tell me."

He shrugged and mumbled as he looked down, "Well, I never see him with any women. And there's no way I could fight off someone his size …"

The reason for his reluctance to stay alone with Casavir finally sunk in. "Oh gods, Wolf! He's not like that. He doesn't take anyone to bed, woman, man, or boy."

Wolf flushed with embarrassment. "Sorry, Captain, I just didn't want to be buggered all night..."

She hugged him to her as she was afforded another grim picture of life on the street and whispered, "No one's gonna bugger you unless you want it, alright? You have my word."

He grinned sheepishly and said, "Sorry, miss. I should've known better, especially considerin' the way he looks at you. He's as bad as Bishop, mayhap worse."

As they sat down to a dinner of baked cod with braised turnips and fresh vinegared wild greens, Dee spotted that half-elven ranger who had been Bishop's lover enter the inn and walk to the bar. As Dee struggled to remember her name, the ranger looked around the room, noticing her as well, and nodded. She peered over Dee's table as if searching for someone. "No, he's not here," Dee thought with a smirk as she nodded back. "Malin. That was her name," she suddenly recalled as she buttered a rosemary-flecked biscuit. Dee watched her as she ordered a mug of ale and strode over to sit by the fire.

After dinner Elanee took Zhjaeve with her to visit Nya while Shandra went to see Alaine, who was still living in the town, having nothing to go back to in Ember. Dee stayed behind because even though Alaine knew now that Lorne had been the one who led the attack on Ember, seeing Dee still brought back the horror of that day. Dee walked to the bar with Cillian and ordered a mug of cider, casting a sidelong glance at Malin, who was reclining in an overstuffed chair by the fire with her feet up and appeared to be dozing. The half-elf, who wasn't dozing, glanced up as if sensing her scrutiny and after a moment gestured at the empty seat next to her. Dee shrugged and joined her.

They traded small talk about the weather, the perils of animal companions in towns and cities, and Dee's courage in cutting off her hair (though Dee wasn't about to share the real reason for the haircut with _her_) as they watched at the fire and sipped their drinks. As they talked they quietly sized each other up with furtive glances, each wondering jealously what Bishop saw in the other, and both of them feeling silly for competing for a male that neither of them wanted. Yet the competition was there, at least on some level.

Finally Malin stated flatly, "Bishop isn't with you…this time." Dee thought she could sense her pleased smugness as she sipped her cider. She was also keenly aware of what Malin meant by "with you."

Dee decided not to take the bait. "Bishop...still travels with us, but I didn't need him to come with us here. Besides, he's his own person. You know how he is," Dee replied diplomatically, giving Malin another sidelong glance and watching as she nodded her understanding of what Dee's statement implied.

"Yes, I know exactly how he is. I was concerned about you when I saw him with you before, whether you believe that or not," Malin replied, turning to face Dee and taking a drink of her ale. "You must have ended it with him. If he had, he would be long gone."

Dee replied with forced civility, "You needn't worry about me. I'm a big girl, and I have good friends who watch over me better than my own kin. I simply realized Bish and I weren't meant to be together. We're too different, for all we have in common. We're like fire and water; there was a lot of heat and steam at first, but..." she sighed then took another sip of her cider. "Honestly, I can't see him settling down with any woman for the long haul, at least not now. He likes variety too much. He values his freedom too much to ever burden himself with a woman or a house full of brats. He runs from the idea of responsibilities as if running from a plague." She punctuated that with an eye roll, feeling somewhat humiliated having to admit to her erstwhile rival that she hadn't been the woman to tame Bishop either.

Malin chuckled darkly and replied, "I'm aware of how steamy things could be with Bishop, at least at first. He's very...skilled, I'll give him that, though with time it becomes more about meeting his needs and less about yours, am I right?" Dee shrugged, not being able to argue with that. Malin took another drink of her ale and looked around as if fearing being overheard then leaned closer and spoke in a low whisper. "Could I ask you though, why is he still with you?"

"You mean, why didn't I send him packing?" Dee asked, meeting her eyes and folding her arms across her chest. "You think me naive to believe we can maintain some sort of friendship?"

Malin nodded and looked at the fire. "Loyalty isn't high on Bishop's list - and he doesn't help anyone unless there's some benefit to him."

Dee frowned and turned away again feeling angry at the need to defend him, and thanking the gods that their relationship didn't end with the rancor that clearly followed his split from Malin. Dee decided that Bishop must have been the one to do the leaving in Malin's case. She spoke carefully and deliberately. "Bish? I don't agree. He does his share. He is a better tracker than I am, a better archer, and a better scout. I admit that, and he admits I'm better fighter when it comes to fightin' up close, and I keep the bad things with swords or claws from gettin' to him." She continued, reciting everything she could think of as if she read from a list titled 'Bishop's Qualities.' "He's a good hunter and helpful in setting up camp quickly too. He also flushed quite a few Luskans out of hiding when we took over Crossroads Keep."

Malin shuddered slightly as she leaned in close again. "Ah, Luskans, I see. That explains everything. Bishop hates them with a passion. It's the only genuine emotion I've ever seen from him. I don't know what they did to him, but it must have been bad. " Malin whispered so they wouldn't be overheard. "The things he's done to them at the border...That's why I couldn't travel with him anymore... but he's good, I'll give him that. Just... just don't turn your back on him, all right? Don't give him a reason to put a knife in it."

Cillian chuffed and nuzzled Dee, sensing her growing agitation, and his small brown eyes narrowed at Malin dangerously. Dee flushed with irritation as she felt compelled to defend Bishop yet again. What was it with this wench, anyway? Yet in the back of her mind she remembered that some of the Luskan corpses bore definite signs of torture, and she also remembered that last night when they came dangerously close to one killing the other. No doubt Malin had a similar experience with him, and that should have bonded the two of them, but it didn't. They should be like old battle comrades comparing scars instead of adversaries.

She spat, "Look, I trust him, alright? That's all that matters. He's done his part and saved my ass more than once. I admit, it's grudgingly most the time, but he does it. I think with time and patience..." She sighed and said, "I will trust him until he gives me reason not to trust him, just like anyone else. I think he's like a dog that's been kicked so many times it's turned mean. I'm under no illusion that he'll be sharing my bedroll again, not without him gettin' a handle on whatever demons from his past that haunt him. But I believe there's a caring person under all that sarcasm; I've seen the other side of him when 'twas just the two of us, and I hope that if we show him friendship and kindness he'll respond in kind. I think he's still around because he wants, nay needs to be part of our pack, though he'd never admit it. He's not the solitary critter he pretends to be."

Malin leaned forward and used her ranger ability to send calming energy towards the bear, not wanting to be mauled this evening by either of them. "Calm down, big boy. I'm a friend trying to help her," she thought. Cillian relaxed a bit but continued to nuzzle Dee. Malin waited to give Dee time to calm down before she continued, adding "I know you must still be feeling raw, and I'm sorry. Believe me, I understand what you're going through. Just be careful. A wild dog will act tamed but might tear your throat out when you let your guard down and go to give him a pat."

Dee stood and Malin sat back, not wanting to get within reach of a mauling by her balled fists. "Why would he stick around then? There's nothing in it for him but constant danger and a chance of a share of whatever loot we find. Maybe you just can't accept that the dog isn't so mean anymore."

Malin replied sadly, "I know him well enough to know he's probably only still around because there's something in it for him, and no offense, but I doubt it's the chance to get back into your bed. You've noticed that he likes variety in bedmates anyway. There's something he wants, or something he needs, and I doubt it's companionship. A man like Bishop, when he makes his move, it's because he's already figured out all the angles to win. By then, it'll be too late to stop him. Don't deceive yourself into thinking he cares about you. He doesn't love anyone or anything but that wolf. Be more careful than I was."

Dee set her mug on the table as she willed her face into a mask of calmness and said curtly, "Thank you, Malin. I'll keep that in mind." She resolved to leave before she lost control of her temper and got them all kicked out. "I have to get to bed. Come on, Cill." She turned and strode rapidly towards the stairs, hoping Malin didn't hear the catch in her voice as she took the steps two at a time.

Malin watched her go, frowning with concern, and muttered, "And I didn't tell you the half of it, but at least I warned you. I just hope you think about it once you calm down."

When Shandra entered their room a short while later, she thought Dee had turned in early. Shaking her head with a chuckle at seeing her cuddled up with Cillian under her bedroll on the floor, she quietly undressed and slipped into the bed. But sleep hadn't found Dee, and wouldn't until long after Shandra had fallen into a deep slumber. When it finally came, she was haunted by disturbing dreams.

In the first, Bishop was running through a dark stone hallway from some faceless terror, and he grabbed her hand as he passed her and tried to pull her along with him. But when she had refused to run and stopped and pulled away and drew her swords, turning to face whatever it was, he shoved her at it and ran on. She awoke gasping for breath and hugged Cillian to her until she calmed down and willed herself back to sleep.

This was followed by a dream about the Keep. There was so much to do, and Kana was demanding she make decisions concerning matters she knew nothing about. The desk was overflowing with documents she had to sign. The stack reached towards the ceiling and was in danger of falling over onto the floor. She couldn't take any more and escaped outside to get her breath. She stepped into a scene of horror—all of her troops lying dead in the field. She staggered back towards the wall as they rose as one and shuffled towards her moaning and reaching for her. She slashed at them with her swords, but they were too many, and they dragged her down, tearing and clawing at her. She awoke stifling a scream and looked over to see if she woke up Shandra, but she appeared to be asleep.

She lay back down and looked at the sky out the window. "Think good thoughts, isn't that what El always says when the bad dreams come?" So she did. She thought about happy times with her friends, shopping in the Merchant Quarter, playing around in the bath, going out for drinks at the Mask, blazing a trail through the forest, even laughing and joking as they washed a stack of dishes at the Flagon. That worked, and she relaxed and gave in to sleep.

This led to a dream in which she was in a room at the Keep playing chess with Casavir, gazing into his blue eyes so much like her own, and he smiled as his knight took her queen then stood and took her hand. He said, "You are in check, my lady." Then the next moment they were making love passionately, exploring each other's bodies with hands and mouths, kissing and caressing as if in a competition to see who could give the other the most pleasure until he took her and was thrusting into her impossibly deep, and she cried out and bit his shoulder as the waves of pleasure came crashing over her. She woke up, covered with sweat to find Shandra and Cillian both sitting up and looking at her with concern.

"Bad dream?" Shandra asked as she sat up holding the dagger she kept under her pillow. "Was it the Githyanki dream again? I still get that one too." She thought, "Especially since Zhjaeve came to stay with us."

Dee flushed scarlet, still shivering and tingling from residual spasms of pleasure, and her heart was pounding so loudly she was sure the whole inn could hear it. She opened her mouth, but no sound came out as she gasped for breath. She pulled the bedroll around herself and lay back against Cillian. Finally she said, "Wasn't that kind of dream, Shan. Oh gods!" She buried her face in her hands, her cheeks feeling like they were on fire.

Shandra laughed. "Oooh! One of _those_ dreams? Must've been a good one, you're glowing." Dee nodded. "That good, huh?" Dee simply nodded again. "Seeing that old lover of Bishop's probably stirred up memories is all. Don't be embarrassed, we all have them."

Dee pulled the blanket over her head and muttered, "Wasn't Bish, and it wasn't a memory either. Gods, Shan! It was so real!"

"Who then," Shandra asked sleepily as she fluffed her pillow and lay back down. Suddenly she sat up and gasped. "Dee! It wasn't!"

Dee replied with a groan, "Aye, it was. I could feel his weight pressing me and the hairs on his chest tickling me. His hips were digging into my inner thighs…he was doing things I didn't think any paladin would do. Oh Shan, I don't even know how to begin to atone for that kind of impure thought."

The next morning as they walked down the road leading to Birney's farm, Casavir wondered why Dee seemed reluctant to make eye contact, and why she blushed and looked away when she did. "She blushes so prettily though," he thought, and he found he couldn't resist deliberately asking whatever came to mind to draw her attention to him, which was focused on Wolf for the most part. As they traveled she pointed out animal tracks and taught him to recognize the calls of the local birds then showed him how to mimic them. Elanee also pointed out common plants to him as they passed that were useful as food or as medicine but considered weeds by most, and Zhjaeve listened raptly to them both. Dee grinned as Wolf pointed out the tracks of a skunk and ruffled his hair. His mind was like a dry sponge tossed into a basin soaking up everything they gave him, and she knew that she had been right about him.

Casavir suddenly stopped and stared up what remained of a road which had been nearly reclaimed by nature, long overgrown with weeds and brush from disuse. The only sign that it had been a road at all was the remnants of wagon wheel ruts that scarred the land. She asked, "What's wrong, Cas?," as they sprang into action. Dee strode over to line up beside him with Cillian and Shandra, drawing her swords and motioning Wolf to the back with Elanee and Zhjaeve, who both began chanting protection spells. Wolf gasped as Elanee touched him and his skin turned gray and became hard as stone. He nocked an arrow to the short bow Grobnar had lent him, frightened but ready to use it if he had to and hoping he didn't hit one of the others. Cillian raised up next to Dee on his hind legs with his forelegs extended in the attack posture, sniffing the air in confusion.

Casavir flushed and replied as she neared him, "It is nothing, my lady...Dee. Forgive me. I think I recognize that tree, the huge old oak with the branch that curves down. The village where I was born must be over that hill." He had a raw, scalded look as if he was reliving painful memories.

Shandra raised an eyebrow. "I didn't know there was any kind of village around here, and I came through here every year on my merchant runs. It's not any map I've seen."

Dee could feel the pain that rolled off him in waves, and her suspicion about his shyness being caused by some terrible trauma during his childhood was confirmed by his stony silence as he stared at the ruined road. She put her hand on his arm and said softly, "I didn't know, Cas....you've never said anything about your family....I always assumed from the way you speak you were from the city, from one of the noble manors in Blacklake. We'll stop by if you would like to...do you have kin there still?" But she could tell by his stance that he had no desire to go down that road.

He replied without looking at her, and a cascade of words trickled out of him like when a spring choked with mud and debris suddenly bursts forth. "It was too small a village to appear on most maps, Shandra. It was called Duskhollow, but there's nothing left of it now. None…of my immediate family lives. There was a virulent pestilence that struck the village when I was but seven; my parents, grandparents, my three brothers and indeed most of the village succumbed. It had already struck in Mirabar and Luskan and in some other villages, though none as bad as in Duskhollow. My father was the village headman, and he sent four men out in every direction for aid. Two of them died of it before they got five miles away. The other two were more successful. When word got out, people...strangers for the most part, came from other villages and set light to everything."

He breathed raggedly and continued in a hoarse whisper. "Those of us who survived were rounded up and kept in isolation in tents under armed guard until we were deemed no longer a threat, yet they feared to come near even to see to our basic needs. There was little food…It was very cold, and some survived the pestilence only to die of the cold."

Dee took his hand, feeling overwhelmed by the horror. "That must have been when you were sent to the temple? How many years has it been since you've been back here? Come, we could at least go pay our respects to your family, Cas."

He stood as if rooted to the ground as she moved to lead him to the road and replied grimly, "No! There might still be remnants of the pestilence there, despite the fire, and I would not put you...any of you at risk. My family...is no longer there."

Dee sensed that there was so much more he wasn't telling them and said quietly, "Nevertheless, let us honor them with a silent prayer." They paused, praying to their respective gods as a sudden autumn shower rolled in, and all but Zhjaeve stepped under the shelter of the trees until it passed.

Dee, standing beside him and still holding his hand (or was it that he was still holding hers?), leaned closer to his ear and said in a barely audible whisper, "If you would like to talk about it at any time, Cas..."

He whispered back, "I appreciate that, but it is...too difficult to speak of these things. Please understand. Perhaps another time." The sudden squall blew over as fast as it had started, and he dropped her hand and stepped out of the trees and back on to the road.

Dee sighed and motioned the others on. "Come on, let's move out." She suddenly felt profoundly ashamed that she complained so much about Daeghun and her childhood. In retrospect, other than Daeghun occasionally leaving her with the Starlings while he disappeared into the swamp to hunt, other than the reserve he always maintained between them, she was beginning to realize that she really hadn't had as unhappy of a childhood as she had always imagined.

They reach the Birney farm near midday. There were dozens of horses of every color in a large pasture that bordered the road, more horses and more varieties of horse than any of them had ever seen, or even knew existed, and they paused to watch them in wonder. Dee hailed a young man sitting on a fence was watching mounted horses being trained to respond to guidance by the rider's knees as the riders charged with lance and sword at practice dummies, and he directed them to a tall, raw-boned middle aged woman dressed in rough hempen work clothes and a leather apron who was coming out of a barn. The woman had hair of such a ludicrously vivid scarlet that it was surely dyed, and it was piled up on her head and falling in coquettish curls about her ears. She was barking orders to several of her stable hands, who scrambled to obey.

Dee strode over and produced a letter of introduction from Sir Grayson and introduced herself. "You are Lady Birney?" she asked. She gave an awkward curtsy and handed her the letter.

The woman eyed her as she broke the seal and read it over. She snorted and said, "One of his squires, eh? Well, if Duckie vouches for you, that's good enough for me. And call me 'Ma'. I hate that _lady_ crap. I take it you're looking for horses that won't shy away from battle. The saddles and tack are included in the price. Just try to keep my little loves alive, that's all I ask."

Dee chuckled, liking her already. "Aye, and I'd appreciate it greatly if I could hire away one of at least one of your stable hands as well to take care of 'em. Duckie? No doubt there's an interesting story behind that name, and I can't wait to hear what it is."

The woman grinned and said, "Well mayhap I'll tell it to you over a pint tonight after supper. My third boy, Harm, would serve you well enough as a stable master." She nodded over at the youth sitting on the fence.

"Harm?" Dee asked, raising an eyebrow and glancing at the youth.

Ma Birney shrugged. "Short for 'Harmony.' No worse than havin' a bear called 'Kill.'"

Ma ordered a series of sturdy riding horses to be brought out for their perusal. Dee thought they could get by with half a dozen horses since she rarely traveled with all of her companions at the same time. Her first consideration was a sturdy, shaggy-haired painted mountain pony that would do for Grobnar or Khelgar to ride. Then Dee rejected several horses out of hand simply because they were too skittish around Cillian and Naloth.

Dee selected a matched pair of lively dappled gray mares that Elanee immediately singled out as suitable for herself, Sand, or Neeshka. Ma Birney chuckled and said, "Lady Falmor will be none too pleased if I sell you those two, but they're too good of horses to spend their days waiting to pull her carriage, and she'll most likely as not want to replace 'em next season with whatever color is in style at the time anyway, so screw her. They're yours." Shandra was smitten with a chunky blue roan gelding and led him around in circles to try him out. Ma had refreshments brought out as they waited for more stock. After a few minutes, a skinny man who bore a strong resemblance to Ma (other than the flaming red hair) came running around the corner, leading a long legged palomino mare so pale golden in color she was almost white. Dee gasped. She grinned at Dee and said, "Name's Blossom. She reminded me of you, so I had Dirk fetch her. Fifteen and a half hands, and loves to be ridden by a someone in armor."

Dee was so enthralled with the horse that Shandra's chuckle and salacious comment, "Aye, sounds like Dee, at least in her dreams" barely registered, but Casavir heard it, involuntarily glanced at Dee and blushed. Ma laughed loudly as she looked Casavir over like a hungry cat eying a fish left unattended. She nodded towards Dee and winked at Shandra, who shook her head less than discreetly and mouthed the word 'paladin' with a shrug.

Dee was oblivious to that as she took the lead and ran her hand down the horse's neck and withers and appraised her carefully, "Aye, she's a beauty. Seems you've been savin' the best for last, Ma." Dee threw a blanket over her back and with a leg up from Wolf, mounted her and led her around, grinning from ear to ear. She leaned over and whispered in the horse's ear, "Well met, Blossom. We're going to get along just fine, I hope." But she had to pass the final test. Dee whistled Cillian over. The horse eyed him nervously, but held her ground as the bear stared her down. After a few minutes, Blossom tossed her head and nickered a greeting and Cillian snorted in boredom and went to lie in the shade.

Dee reluctantly dismounted Blossom and allowed her to be led to the others and eventually selected a couple of chestnut and dun mares. She talked Wolf into trying out the former and Zhjaeve into giving the latter a go, despite her protested cry of "Know that I have never ridden upon such a creature, Kalach-cha!"

She was interrupted by the sound of a horse neighing loudly in distress, and they turned to see what was wrong. Four of Ma's hands were straining at ropes and struggling to get a huge stallion, black as night, under control, but he was rearing, bucking, and fighting to get away. Ma cursed and stalked over. "That's it, there's nothing for him but to geld him! 'Thunder,' hells, he should've been called 'Demonspawn." The stallion jerked his head sharply and pulled one of the men holding the ropes to the ground then charged another and managed to break free. He ran towards them at a full gallop, and everyone scattered but Dee and Casavir, who fearlessly stood his ground with his hands held up. Elanee stopped and began chanting a _Hold Animal_ spell.

The horse reared up and neighed, and Dee feared that Casavir was about to get trampled if Elanee didn't get her spell off in time. But it paused, neighed more quietly, and dropped back to the ground and stood there as Casavir slowly stepped forward and closed the gap between them. Elanee paused in mid spell yet watched the horse closely. Dee edged a bit closer as well and waved off the stable hands cautiously approaching from the rear lest they spook it again. Casavir continued until he was standing right before the stallion and looking directly into its eyes, then he reached up slowly and stroked its neck gently. "You're no demon, are you boy?" The horse snorted and tossed his head in response. Dee watched open-mouthed as he leaned forward and laid his head against the horse's shoulder like he was greeting an old friend. He turned to Dee, beaming as she had never seen before and asked, "Can I take him?"

Dee smiled at him and said a soft prayer of thanks to Tyr. She wondered if the god sent all his paladins their warhorses in such a dramatic way. "Doesn't look like he's givin' you a choice, Cas."

Ma came up beside her and said in disgust, "I'll give you that one for half cost, but I have to warn you he's been nothin' but trouble. Almost no one can ride him, and he's injured no less than three of my hands." She paused and stared as Casavir effortlessly vaulted onto the stallion's back then cursed under her breath and shook her head in disbelief. "Sixteen hands, and Lord Nasher's favorite charger is his sire. He's such a perfect beast I meant to keep him for breeding stock, but...I still think he's dangerous, so I suggest you have him gelded when you get to your keep to settle him down. Your druid should be able to control him until then."

Casavir growled tersely, "Thunder will _not_ be gelded!" Thunder neighed in agreement and nuzzled Casavir.

Dee replied, "Nay, a creature that magnificent will not be gelded; I am determined about that." As she walked up slowly and held out her hand to the stallion, she realized she wasn't altogether sure of which of the two she was speaking.


	18. The Homecoming

Chapter 18 The Homecoming

Neeshka teased, "You're procrastinating, Dee. Not in a hurry to get back to your swamp village?"

Shandra nodded, arms folded across her chest. "You know about how long we'll be in Highcliff? I'd like to get some things from my farm while we're there. I didn't have much time when we left, and it doesn't look like I'm heading back there to live any time soon."

Dee bristled against the charge that she was procrastinating, and replied defensively, "There's so much to do before we can leave, and every hour of every day there seems to be a new demand for my attention—inspecting the rebuilding efforts, getting Wolf's urchins settled in and assigning their tasks, seeing to the training of the 'Cloaks so I know they're capable before I set 'em loose on patrol...I swear it seems sometimes like folks can't wipe their arses without my say-so."

Shandra nodded and replied, "Yeah, so tell them to wipe their own arses, and Kana can handle much of the rest. Learn to delegate! You needn't practice with each one of the recruits every day, you know."

Dee frowned and snapped, "I will until I'm satisfied they ain't gonna do more damage to themselves than to what they'll find outside the walls. Just give me a few more days, alright? I've got to go light the first fire then test the forge at the smithy." She and Cillian stalked off in that direction.

Neeshka watched her go and observed, "She's really grumpy lately. Must be about that time of month. But she is procrastinating."

Shandra shrugged and replied, "Yeah, probably that time of month, and she needs to get laid besides."

Neeshka giggled. "That she does, but it's not she can pick up one of her recruits at the _Phoenix Tail_ like I can."

Shandra nodded in agreement. "Gods, what do we have to do, get them drunk? Yeah, there aren't many options for her here besides him. I don't blame her procrastinating about West Harbor though, avoiding seeing Lorne Starling's family and having it out with her foster father. Still, we better light a fire under her backside before Marpenoth's out or we'll be slogging through rain the whole way."

Dee saw Kana coming towards her too late to escape. She had spent the morning taking time to read carefully through the stack of documents that awaited her signature, which fortunately didn't yet extend to the ceiling like in her nightmare--yet. "Gods, what does she need now?" she muttered.

She smiled wistfully as she saw Casavir ride Thunder past around the road leading into the village. "I need some more practice with Blossom before we leave as well. Mayhap I can find time to go ridin' with Cas this eve." She ignored the snicker from Shandra, who had caught up to her like her own shadow. Chief among the things which must be accomplished before they could leave was the need not only to ensure all her companions new how to ride their horses competently, but also to care for them on the trail. So far Thunder didn't tolerate any rider other than Casavir, and only Dee and Elanee could approach the temperamental young stallion without risking serious bodily injury. Dee wasn't surprised that Qara had proved to be a reluctant student, declaring with her typical haughtiness that she didn't see why she had to learn to groom her horse like a common stable boy, though after admiring the strong thighs and smoldering dark eyes of Harm, the new Master of Horse, she happily accepted riding lessons from him.

Kana walked up to her briskly and said, "Captain, there are some matters which require your attention at the Keep."

Dee sighed at being trapped but then remembered she was captain after all. "No doubt. Kana, have some of the 'Cloaks set up a pavilion next to the smithy. I mean to test it before the smiths get here." So she stoked the fire while she waited then pounded away at a mithril long sword while Kana shouted rather than read a dispatch to her over the din.

"Torio Claven has been captured trying to reenter the city, and Lord Nasher has decided to allow you to decide her fate. If you order it, she will be hanged for her crimes, or she could be brought here under house arrest. She might provide valuable information about Luskan's intentions. However, if you wish, you may defer to Captain Brelaina and she will decide her fate."

Dee paused for a moment then again pounded the metal angrily. The bitch certainly deserved death, but she didn't want to turn her over to Captain Brelaina's cold mercy. But then she remembered that night she watched her in her courtyard, pacing nervously like a caged animal, and no one was as surprised as she was at the twinge of compassion for Torio Claven that welled up. "Have her brought here. You're right, she could prove useful to us." She hoped Kana didn't hear the catch in her voice.

Master Veedle caught her at supper that night. Decisions had to be made regarding other rebuilding projects as well. She had already ordered that the temple of Tyr be rebuilt as soon as the Keep was restored when she first toured the site, but there was the matter of the roofless tower too. It had originally served as a watchtower, but Master Veedle informed her that Sir Nevalle was interested in it as a local base of operations for the Nine.

Dee rolled her eyes and asked, "I don't suppose Sir Nevalle and the Nine will pay for the rebuildin' of it?"

Veedle shrugged apologetically. "It's the responsibility of the Lord or Lady of the Keep, I'm afraid. However, I've also had an inquiry from a mage who is interested in it, and I'd be willing to bet he would pay for at least part of the repairs."

Dee pondered this for only a moment then shook her head vigorously. "No. If 'tis to be a mage's tower, I'd just as soon rebuild it for Sand's use rather than for some stranger."

Sand glanced out the window towards the ruin and sniffed, "A tower? Don't fret too much about me, dear girl, or waste your coin on my account. I'm perfectly content with my chambers next to the library and a workshop in the basement. I don't need a phallic edifice to prove my adequacy as a mage to the world. Let Nevalle have his phallic edifice. Gods know, from what I've heard, he needs it."

Veedle announced cheerily, "There is also some good news to report, captain. My crew is nearly finished with the final repairs to the Keep more than a tenday ahead of schedule, and I can't wait to take you all on a tour. We should be finished in two or three days at the most." His crew had worked so hard to complete the repairs that she hated to disappoint him. So what did it matter if they waited a few more days to leave?

Dee had fallen into the habit of working ceaselessly from before Lathander's first light appeared in the east until well after dark when she fell into her bedroll. She was exhausted but she could see she was making tangible progress in her duties, and her exhaustion had an unexpected benefit in that it kept the dreams at bay. That was until the evening that they held a celebration feast in the war room after Veedle had led them on a tour of the Keep and they were allowed to move into their quarters. It was late, and most of her companions had either headed off to their quarters to finish unpacking or were making plans to continue drinking at the _Phoenix Tail,_ but Dee had scarcely touched the food that had been prepared except to take a few perfunctory bites to placate the disappointed cooks who had put so much effort into it.

She declared, "I won't be able to sleep until I've read through this stack of requisitions. I should write to Judge Oleff and ask if he could send me a law clerk. He's been so helpful with advice. I'll do it before bed." She had avoided the Esmerelle talk with him so far but corresponded with the judge regularly and was completely unaware that his interest in her progress stemmed from the fact that the lonely old man had persuaded himself that she had his cheekbones. Dee continued signing some, setting others in a pile for Kana under a slip of paper labeled 'discuss' while placing a few others she rejected outright with a snort or a muttered "yeah right" into another pile. Finally she was satisfied and stretched her stiff shoulders.

Casavir noticed an onyx and alabaster chess set there on a table near the wall and innocently suggested, "There's just the thing to help you relax. Would you care for a game of chess, my la…Dee.? I'd enjoy teaching you how to play if you don't know how."

Shandra suppressed a chuckle, nudging Neeshka who giggled loudly, and Dee flushed crimson and muttered "I...thanks, but I need a bath," then beat a hasty retreat to her quarters, leaving Casavir blushing and puzzled as to what he had said.

That night despite an icy cold bath she suffered a repeat performance of _that_ dream, with every erotic detail amplified more than she would have thought was possible. She awoke glistening with sweat calling out his name so loudly that she was surprised that the guards, hells, the whole Keep didn't come running. She could swear she could taste his tongue. It didn't help that Kana, prompted secretly by Shandra and Neeshka, had assigned Casavir the room next to Dee's, which was connected to hers by a balcony overlooking the courtyard and also shared a fireplace. They had originally been one room, the lord's suite, and it was almost as big as Daeghun's entire house. When she had picked her way through the rubble during the first inspection with Veedle, she thought that so much space being dedicated to use of one person, even the lord of the Keep, was ridiculous, so his workers had built walls to partition it into two bedchambers as well as two small bedchambers for servants.

Cillian looked up at her from the hideous carpet that had been placed in front of the fireplace as she got out of bed and stepped out onto the balcony to cool herself in the night breeze. She gazed hungrily across at the door to his chamber. It took every ounce of discipline she had not to cross that balcony, slip into is room, and into his arms. He was a man after all, and from what Bishop told her, men suffered intense physical pain from unrelieved arousal and could even sicken from it, so she reasoned she would be doing him a kindness, whether he saw it that way or not. She crossed and put a hand on the doorknob but hesitated for a minute. "Gods, what am I coming to justifying satisfying my own lust by convincing myself Cas needs a pity fuck?" she muttered angrily as she turned and fled the balcony.

For she knew he cared for her more deeply for her than she did for him, even though all he had been able to articulate so far was a desire to "protect" her and a fear that trying to protect her was interfering with his duty to the mission. It was clear how he felt in the way he looked at her with longing, and something akin to reverence when he thought she couldn't see him. Would it make a difference if he told her he loved her? It wasn't that she didn't care for him too in her fashion; he was one of her dearest friends and closest battlefield allies, she wanted to protect him too from both external and internal threats, she trusted him with her life, she loved the time they spent together talking over the events of the day, she loved his shy humor, she even wanted to screw him senseless, but she didn't love him. She wasn't even sure she knew what love was.

She sighed and tried to get back to sleep, and as she lay there she saw that if she gave herself to him inevitably she would hurt him deeply when--if--she fell in love with someone else, though she was beginning to doubt if that would happen. What was it Bishop had called her? A cold-hearted swamp wench? More than that, she feared she would become bored with the sex. She didn't believe Bishop's tale of paladins only doing it through a sheet with a hole cut in it, but being with him had given her tastes, 'kink' Ophala called it, that she was fairly sure Casavir wouldn't approve of.

Then again, that might not have been entirely Bishop's fault; this might be another legacy from her mother. If she wasn't careful, she would end up like her, taking a different man to her bed every day and drinking herself to sleep in a futile search for something real. Maybe that was the reason Esmerelle had taken so many lovers, hoping that the next one would be the right one. She abandoned the bed and grabbed a pillow and a blanket and snuggled with Cillian in front of the remains of the fire, watching the flames until she fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.

Casavir was lying in his narrow bed trying to get comfortable despite the stinging in his upper back and shoulders. He had nearly drifted off to sleep when he thought he heard Dee shout out his name, and he jumped out of bed to go to her aid. But there was something that made him pause with his hand on the doorknob, and he realized that his body had responded to something in her tone that his conscious mind hadn't detected. He listened, but all was silent, and after a minute he decided that it had been a dream. He sighed deeply and said a silent prayer to Tyr.

Ten lashes hadn't been enough apparently, but he was loathe to go against the Prior's admonition by increasing the number, and he was disturbed that he still thought of her bright eyes and her soft lips even as the scourge bit into his shoulders. There was the added problem of beating himself until he was so sore it affected his fighting, putting himself and her in danger. He wanted to talk to the Prior, but how could he leave now when they all needed him? He was about to go back to bed when he saw the shadow of someone—her, it had to be—standing on the other side of the door. He was about to throw caution to the wind and throw open the door and sweep her up into his arms, but how would he then explain the wounds on his back? What would she think of him? After a moment, the shadow receded and he went back to bed cursing himself for his fear and weakness.

The next morning as she headed to the courtyard to inspect a few new recruits before breakfast, a nondescript balding man dressed in shades of gray who introduced himself as Uncus accosted Dee in the entryway to the Keep. He had a "proposition" for what he called a mutually advantageous business arrangement. She waved Cillian back as she wondered how in the hells he got past the guards but didn't have to listen long to understand what he was about. She would turn a blind eye to his operation, and in return he would provide her service as a fence—her fence—as well as provide her some exotic and probably illegal items, for a price. He also offered to set up and run a gambling den, and of course the Keep would get a cut of the take. Yeah, she understood him. Gods cursed parasite. "No thanks—We don't require your services here," she said curtly.

"You sure? Because once I'm gone, that's it, and I won't be back." he replied with a shrug as he examined his nails. "You _better_ think it over," he added with just a touch of menace.

Dee snarled as she grabbed him by his tunic and muscled him out the door, "Aye, I'm sure. In fact, I'm quite certain. Good day, and I suggest you move fast. The bear hasn't eaten yet." She muttered "and good riddance" as he stalked off and slipped into the shadows casting a fearful glance towards the bear just coming out the door. Dee summoned Neeshka over with a barely perceptible gesture.

"What's up?" Neeshka asked innocently, though Dee knew that it was no coincidence she was up at this hour standing there watching the encounter, and Dee suspected she knew very well what was "up." Very little went on at the Keep or anywhere that Neeshka wasn't aware of.

Dee watched the tiefling's eyes as they spoke. "You see that man who just left? His name's Uncus. Your assignment is to make sure he gets the hells out of the Keep, and his minions as well. We don't need Shadow Thieves muscling in on your territory, and I sure don't want them setting up a gambling den to prey on my Greycloaks. They make little enough as it is for risking their lives." She scowled and rubbed her pounding temple absently. "I also don't like the way he walked right in like he owned the place, right past the guards. I'm thinkin' I need to make you the chief of security."

Neeshka's eyes glowed with crimson fire as she turned her head to peer in the direction he had gone. "Yeah, it is my territory. They're not muscling in on my…errr _our_ action. You have a deal, but I want to be free to go to West Harbor with you. When are we leaving, anyway? And don't say 'soon' again because soon never seems to get here."

"Fine, we'll leave day after next for sure! Just don't let him get away. I want a report on how many he has with him and who they came with!" Dee grumbled. "Then we'll talk about you testing the Keep's defenses. If there's a guard shirkin' or on the take, or a hidden passage, or an unlocked service door, I want to know about it!"

Neeshka grinned and whispered before she disappeared into the shadows in search of her quarry, "At your service, captain! And you should see Elanee for some of her special women's tea, and you won't be so grumpy." She vanished into the shadows, thinking it might not be as boring here as she feared.

Dee watched her go and snorted but grumbled, "I s'pose I have been rather grumpy lately. Mayhap she's right. I must be about due." She did some quick mental math then paused, muttered "That can't be right, couldn't have been that long" and did the math again more slowly, counting aloud on her fingers back all the way to just after the trial. But that was right, and as her knees turned to jelly she dropped down to a seat onto a large dressed stone waiting to be raised to fill a gap in the wall and put her head in her hands. She jumped to her feet after a moment reflexively put a hand on her belly and groaned, "But how? I drank that filthy potion! I can't be! Shite! Not now!"

Bishop, who happened to be watching her like he did any chance he got (until he got tired of it and made himself go off hunting for deer or bandits), grinned as she sent the shadow thief packing and would have immediately hunted him down himself except he waited to eavesdrop on her conversation with Neeshka. Bishop was the only person who knew more about what went on at the Keep than Neeshka did. He didn't know why he stayed and continued watching and listening to her talking to herself after the devil girl ran off when there were shadow thieves to hunt down; he would never admit that he was obsessed with her, though he had gone through every tall blond whore in the Docks trying to prove to himself that she meant nothing more to him than another lay.

He had continued his habit of sneaking into her room when she was out in the city, or into her tent here, which was easy since she only used it for sleeping (alone, he noted with bitter satisfaction). He would quickly go through her things looking for gifts or tokens from another lover, then her clothes, using his nose to lead him to proof, as if that would help him justify to himself the way he had treated her. As he stood there now he heard her say, "I can't be!" and saw the hand on her belly and the stricken look on her face, and it didn't take a genius to figure out what she was mumbling about or who had got her that way. His blood turned to ice water, but he had to be sure. He walked out of his hiding place stretching as if he just woke up and said casually, his forcing his face into a mask of calm, "Something you need, captain? Who's got you swearin' before breakfast?"

Dee blinked and flushed as Cillian gave a low snarl. She patted the bear and said, "'Tis nothing, Bish. Have you seen Elanee?"

He faked a yawn and nodded over towards the smithy then turned back and scratched Karnwyr's head. "Don't know, but she's usually camping by that alder tree. Why? You sick or something?" He stepped closer now that the damned bear was somewhat mollified and looked into her eyes with concern that was not entirely faked. "You look sick. There's dark shadows under your eyes, and you're pale as death. You look like you're gonna puke. You're not knocked up or something, are you?" He had a sudden murderous impulse to knock her over the head and push her into an abandoned well near the ruined tower, but he dismissed the idea because she would be missed immediately.

She shrugged and looked down. "Ain't any of your concern if I am. I know how you feel. You made it clear, so don't worry about it. 'Tis my problem."

He gave her his most charming smile and said, "Well I do worry about you, Dee, whether you believe it or not. It's a bad time to be knocked up is all I'm saying. It's gonna be hard to lead a charge if you have to fight around a thick belly." He watched her as she looked down and nodded again and pushed a lock of hair behind her ear. He had her attention, so he continued. "And a kid would be one more thing for you to have to worry about. What if you get killed fighting the King of Shadows? What happens to the kid then? Who's gonna look after it? Is your foster father willing to raise another orphan?"

She met his amber eyes and sighed. "Look, I don't even know for sure, alright? But it's been since the trial, I think." She bent and gave Karnwyr a belly rub then straightened up and added bravely, "No point in worrying about it until I know for sure." Her face, however, belied her bravado.

He was enjoying her discomfort now that it was clear that nothing was expected of him, and he was dying to say the cruelest thing he could think of to hurt her like she had hurt him, and it hovered enticingly on the tip of his tongue—"So who's the father?" But he restrained himself. The momentary pleasure he would gain from the pain that would cause her wasn't worth the risk of turning her against him. He got close enough beside her to put a hand on her arm and said lowly, "Too bad we're not in the city. There are people I know there who could help you out to end it. You're young, and you can have more when all this is finished. Hells, even Sand most likely could mix you up some concoction to get rid of it, or the druid too. I've heard a strong tea of wild carrot seed and water hemlock works, so you could try that first. No one else even has to know." He could tell he was getting to her and he smiled slyly.

"Know what, Bishop?"

They both jumped at the sound of Casavir's deep baritone, so intent on their conversation that neither of them heard him approach, and Dee blushed scarlet as she wondered how much he had heard. That was twice today someone got the drop on her! She cast an accusatory look at Cillian who grinned back innocently, and she stammered as she spun to him and saw not only Casavir but Shandra as well standing with their arms folded across their chests, "Cas…Shan…how…long...have you been there?" She felt sick, and she sank back down on the stone.

Bishop scowled but controlled himself. "The Captain and I are having a private discussion. It's nothing to concern yourselves about."

"Is that right, Dee?" Casavir asked protectively as he drew closer.

"How much did you hear?" she asked as she looked from one to the other, but she knew the answer from their faces.

"We heard enough," Shandra replied with a sigh that told Dee the 'how could you let that happen' lecture was coming later. "I expect Sand could help you, if you want to…"

"And we will support you no matter what you decide to do," Casavir added. "I…we care about what happens to you."

Bishop sensed he was losing ground and snarled, "We all care what happens to her, paladin." He tried to control his anger, but he couldn't stand that holy smugness. "This is just the wrong time what with us getting ready to go to war is all I'm saying."

Casavir struggled against the hatred that threatened to overcome his sense and compel him to smash the ranger in the mouth. He didn't believe for a moment that Bishop was concerned about anyone but himself, but she was so blind when it came to him. He took a calming breath and replied evenly, "Perhaps that is true, and perhaps there's a reason why this has happened at this time. Just know that whatever you decide, I shall stand beside you." He paused for a moment as Dee gave him a brilliant smile that melted his heart. He impulsively dropped to his knee, took her hand and said, "And if you should decide…to continue with it, you will need help. If you would have me, I would be honored if you would consent to be my wife."

"What?" Dee gasped, and Shandra echoed her. "Oh, Cas, you honor me greatly, more than I deserve, but I wouldn't trap you in a sad, decorous, loveless marriage. I wouldn't ask that of anyone," and she involuntarily glanced at Bishop, who was glaring daggers at Casavir.

Bishop growled, "The hells you will. It's my responsibility, not yours." However, he didn't miss the word "loveless" and noted with satisfaction what that said about her feelings for the paladin.

Dee stood and said "Thank you both for the offer. That was sweet," though as she said it, it occurred to her Bishop hadn't really made her an offer. She sighed and said, "My morning schedule's already ruined. I'll go see El and find out if there's even a problem."

She found Elanee with her new best friend Zhjaeve in the kitchen herb garden teaching the githzerai the names and uses of the many plants there. Sighing because she knew that the whole keep, or at least all of her companions would know her business by highsun, Dee told them of her fears. "So how do you tell, that is without waiting for it to become obvious?" she asked.

Zhjaeve smiled, or appeared to behind her veil, and said as she put her arm around her, "Know that I have a spell which can detect life. We shall go to your room and examine you. If you are with child, your womb will have grown, even if just a little."

Elanee peered into Dee's eyes then into her mouth and said, "Come along, there's no need to make yourself sick with worry needlessly. It's most likely a false alarm, and I have my own theory as to the cause."

To her immediate relief the Githzerai's spell didn't detect the spark of new life, and after a closer examination by both of them in her room during which they poked and prodded her rock hard belly as Cillian and Shandra looked on nervously (and Bishop and Casavir waited nervously in the hallway), they decided that she had lost too much body fat as she put on muscle over the past few months, which led to a lecture on basic female anatomy from Zhjaeve. "Know that there's a reason females have breasts and full hips, Kalach-cha. You must eat more to compensate."

A relieved Shandra stepped out to tell Bishop and Casavir, who had been joined by Neeshka and Sand who came out of curiosity but stayed to keep the other two from coming to blows.

Elanee added, "I noticed last night that the blue bodice you wore doesn't push you out as much as it used to. I'm actually quite surprised you didn't notice when you got dressed."

Dee blushed as she recalled that she had pulled the laces as tight as she could. She replied with a shrug, "I was in a hurry to get to the feast. I thought mayhap the lauderess did somethin' to it or mixed it up with someone else's in the wash. Actually, I didn't really think about it, just like I've been too busy to notice I've missed my monthly a couple of times." She got up and examined herself in the mirror as she dressed.

It was true she had become lean and hard-muscled. Her cheeks were hollow beneath prominent cheekbones. She mused that with the short hair she was beginning to resemble one of Wolf's boys. Filled with conflicting emotion, she felt like crying, but she also felt like shouting from the balcony she was so relieved. She asked at last, "What does this mean though? Have I become barren?" She dreaded the answer, but she had to know. "I do want a kid or two some day when all this is over."

Elanee laughed softly and replied, "No, I think you're still quite fertile. There's just no monthly evidence of that now, which I'm sure you don't mind. I don't suppose you'll cut down on your three hours of sword practice or your runs with the new recruits? I never thought I would say this, but it might help if you drank a pint of ale every night with your supper, and if you eat double portions to make up for the workout you get every day, you should be fine. Just eat like a bear fattening up for winter."

Cillian chuffed and told her, "See? I said you were too thin."

* * *

Shandra had guessed correctly that Edario would jump at the chance to leave Highcliff, and it wasn't hard to convince Jacoby to leave Fort Locke either. Dee arranged to pick them up on the way back to give them time to pack up their belongings and settle their affairs. Along the way Dee left hidden messages written on thin sheets of birch paper for other Harper agents to pass along the warning about the growing power of the King of Shadows and the devastation he was causing in the Mere and beyond.

They made a detour to _Old Owl Well_, and Katriona quickly accepted Dee's offer of becoming one of her sergeants, though Dee wondered aloud to Shandra if she wanted the challenge or if she wanted to serve with Casavir again.

"Serve under Casavir, you mean; you're jealous!" Shandra replied with a chuckle, and Dee gave her a quick smack on her backside.

"Hush, you! Why would I be jealous?" Dee growled.

Shandra laughed and replied, "No reason that I can see. It's pretty clear from the way he looks you and at her where his interest lies."

They took Katriona with them to West Harbor the next morning and rode into the village late in the afternoon. The few people out in the farthest field gathering the last of the harvest in the waning light stopped their work and stared at the spectacle of a half dozen armored riders approaching.

Shandra looked around and exclaimed, "So this is West Harbor! You really weren't kidding about being from a small village! Must've been a hard life growing up here in the swamp."

Dee replied, "It wasn't bad, once you get past the smell. The soil is rich, and the weather is pretty mild. Other than being chosen as the center of a battle every twenty years or so, it's fairly quiet here."

Bishop sneered as he looked around and thought, "Just about as I figured. No wonder she couldn't wait to get out of this stinking mud hole."

Someone who from his shape Dee thought was Webb Mossfield ran like the wind to Georg's house, and Georg was strapping on his sword belt and heading for them accompanied by Brother Merring, Tarmas, and a number of the militia members by the time they passed through the gate. Dee didn't doubt that Daeghun would be along with his bow as soon as he got word of a group of armed riders entering the village.

Casavir and Shandra led their horses beside her. Casavir leaned close to Dee and said, "West Harbor appears to have a well-trained militia. They responded to the potential threat in minutes. Most impressive."

She chuckled and replied, "Aye, but don't tell Georg that or no one here will ever hear the end of it." She swung her leg over and slid gracefully off Blossom then waved and called out "Georg!" and waited with Cillian for Georg to reach them.

He blinked as he got close enough to see her and asked, "Dee? Is that you, lass? I hardly recognize you." He shouted to the approaching militia "'Tis Dee! Someone get Daeghun quickly!" then ran the rest of the way to her, swept her up in a hug and spun her around and said, "Welcome home, lass!"


	19. You Can Choose Your Friends

Chapter 19 You Can Choose Your Friends, But You Can't Choose Your Family

**Note—** this chapter uses some of the PC's and Daeghun's dialog from the NWN2 OC, much of which has been paraphrased, but is still the property of Bioware and Obsidian. The rest I am solely responsible for.

"So that's Wyl Mossfield?" Neeshka whispered to Shandra skeptically as they stood off to the side, scrutinizing critically the tall young farmer joining the mob of villagers who had come out to greet Dee once word got around she had returned. "Don't know what Dee saw in him."

Shandra whispered back, "Yeah, must be, that's what she called him, and those must be his brothers behind him. Look around you though. It's not like there are a lot of options in a village this size. It's scary, but those three are probably considered quite the catch." She nodded towards a small, young, mousy-looking woman with straight, mousy-colored hair clinging nervously to his arm. "That woman looks like she's afraid he'll run off with Dee if she lets go of him for a second. She's hardly more than a girl, and look at her belly. Oh look, now she's showing Dee a ring and marking her territory. He sure didn't waste any time waiting for Dee to return." They watched as Dee hugged both of them and put her hand on the girl's rounded belly then hugged them again.

Neeshka shrugged and replied matter-of-factly, "Well, it has been well over a year, and she said they broke it off the day before she left after she beat him in that harvest brawl. And besides, she probably didn't keep it a secret from him that she planned to leave here after the harvest anyway." She grinned flirtatiously at Webb Mossfield, who had been trying to get her eye and winked back at her. "His brother's built like an ox and not bad looking if you like the brawny meat-for-brains type. Wonder why Dee didn't pick him instead of his skinny brother?"

Shandra pondered this for a minute as she nodded at a few villagers and waited for them to pass out of earshot before she answered, "Dee said they were the village bully boys, but Wyl was the best of the lot, the smart one of the three, and she controlled the worst of their mayhem through him. She said once in a battle of wits between Webb Mossfield and an ox, she was guessing the ox would win."

Neeshka giggled and whispered, "Ooh, he's being so subtle flexing his muscles for me. It's not his brains I'm interested in, Shandra."

She noticed a group of children who stood back in a protective pack whispering and pointing at her and edging closer. She feigned indifference; only her twitching tail betrayed her nervousness, so she kept a wary eye on them in case the pack turned into a mob. Finally, the bravest of them approached her and asked haltingly, "Beggin' your pardon, is that tail real, miss? And are those horns? Wha..what are you?"

She rolled her eyes, but she thanked Tymora they weren't throwing stones and chasing her out of town. "I should be used to it by now anyway," she thought as she swung her tail around and dangled it in front of him. "Could I do this if it wasn't real? Go ahead, you can touch it. Just don't pull it." The boy hesitated, then reached out and gently touched her tail, and Neeshka dropped to her haunches and pushed her hair aside so he could examine her horns as well. They were soon mobbed by his shyer companions, all clamoring for a chance to touch her as she gave them a lesson on planar beings.

Word of Dee's arrival had spread like wildfire, almost as fast as the initial warning of armed strangers riding in to the village, and now Dee found herself surrounded after having sent Cillian back from the press of the crowd. Only Bishop stood close by at a less discreet distance than Shandra and Neeshka. Sand and Grobnar had gone off with Tarmas to his house to inform him about the King of Shadows. Dee hadn't been surprised that Tarmas was the one who recognized one of the hand signals Harpers used to identify one another that Grobnar flashed at him, Georg, and Brother Merring, and responded to the gnome. It was one answer to why the mage had settled here. Elanee, Katriona, and Casavir followed Orlen and Georg with the horses to be stabled in Orlen's barn. Elanee was listening to Georg's tale of a giant carnivorous swamp elf that used to lurk about the village and trying unsuccessfully to keep a straight face.

Dee stood at the center of the throng, accepting hugs, slaps on the back, and answering rapid-fire questions from her former friends and neighbors about what she had been through and what she had seen since she left, while her new-fangled spectacles were passed around from hand to hand gingerly and held up to eyes in awe. There were many questions, some tactless, about the trial that Dee answered while she and the inquisitive villagers cast furtive glances about for any of the Starlings. Dee found that word travels fast. Apparently the merchant Galen had skipped several of his usual stops on his run south so he could get to West Harbor as quickly as he could with a wagon and inform Daeghun (and unfortunately Georg, who spread the tale around the village) when Dee was first charged.

After the trial a passing bard named Cain made a point of diverting to West Harbor on his way to Waterdeep because he remembered hearing during the trial that Dee was from there. She remembered the name, having seen him perform at the Blacklake amphitheater—a bit of a blow hard and a bully who seemed to take pleasure in thoroughly humiliating anyone who dared to challenge him, and for once she didn't object when Qara suggested they set light to him. When he arrived Cain regaled the crowd of villagers with his version of the trial and the subsequent trial by combat, which he told them he personally witnessed, always eager to watch blood sports and to have a fresh tale to tell.

Only in his telling the tournament was waged in a driving rain that turned the arena into a swamp, and Lorne had become an eight-foot-tall half-ogre with demonic markings on his face, no doubt created in some unholy experiment by one of the Hosttower mages. They fought for over an hour, neither giving the other any quarter when rain stopped all of a sudden as the clouds parted and a beam of light from the heavens fell on the ranger, illuminating her and her raised swords in a golden glow as her shadow cast the sign of Tyr on the ground before her. Then another beam of light fell across the Luskan devil's neck, showing her where to strike. In his telling, Dee had nearly beheaded the beast with a slashing cut and was sprayed with black ichor, yet due to some foul magic or his infernal blood, he would not die! The Luskan beast left the arena after he yielded to her, holding his head up, which was only attached to his body by his spine.

There was little way he could have known that the Luskan devil wasn't from Luskan nor that the name Lorne Starling was also well known in West Harbor, nor that a horrified Rhetta Starling and her youngest children had walked up as the bard told the tale, ignoring the signals and gestures then interruptions from other horrified villagers who tried to get him to shut up. Needless to say, he didn't get an offer of free lodging (perhaps with a comely bed warmer) or coin that he expected when he took the detour to West Harbor.

Dee listened with a look of anguish as Brother Merring recounted the incident, and other villagers muttered their agreement it was a terrible way for Rhetta to get the news about her son. "An hour? It seemed like only minutes, and I would've had a harder time of it if not for Cillian keepin' him back until I could drink a healing potion. Thanks be to Tyr, the part about him blessing me and showing me where to strike is true enough, though no one told me it could be seen from the stands. Poor Rhetta. First that strange attack on Bevil, and now this! I have to go find her."

But then a wave of nudges swept through the villagers, who grew quiet except for a few hushed whispers of "Daeghun" as the elf approached. Granny Buckman clapped her hands to get everyone's attention and exclaimed loudly, "Folks, I just had an idea! Since she missed the Harvest Fair this year, why don't we get some lanterns and set up some trestle tables in our barn so's we can take a potluck supper together and feed Dierdre's friends. The weather is still fine. Mayhap later the little bard can sing for us. Let Dierdre speak to her father in peace." She pointed a bony finger at Bishop. "You there with the dog, come along and help Lazlo with the tables and tell us how you know our Dierdre."

Bishop grinned lewdly at the dessicated crone and said, "Believe me, I know her every way a man can know a woman."

Shandra snarled as she walked up beside him and elbowed him in the ribs, "Mind your words, Bishop if you've ever cared about her at all!" She shadowed him for a time as they helped set up trestle tables and haul out chairs and benches until the Widow Jons caught his attention whether by accident or by design when she bent over so low to pick up a basket of apples that she almost spilled out of the plunging neckline of her blouse. She paused to give the handsome stranger a good look at her best assets, and Bishop leered appreciatively and agreed they were spectacular. He looked her over. That was definitely by design. The wench was forty if she was a day, and her golden hair was graying at the temples, but as he always told himself, all cats are gray in the dark. Besides, older women would willingly do things that would cause younger women to faint if he even suggested them, and afterwards they were just so grateful...He grabbed an apple from her basket and sunk his teeth into the succulent fruit taking a huge bite, and she took it back and licked the juice from the fruit and sucked it from his fingers. He knew where he'd be sleeping tonight.

Dee and Daeghun stood staring at one another as if looking at strangers, until reality became reconciled with memory and the strange became familiar again. Neither spoke nor moved closer for several heartbeats as the villagers quickly walked off to their homes or the Buckman barn, leaving her alone but for Cillian, who had ambled over to stand beside her as the crowd dispersed. Her father's face was as smooth as she remembered, but he seemed smaller, and had his eyes always looked that weary? Finally Daeghun broke the silence and said in the same cool, emotionless tone Dee had grown up with," So you've returned, my foster daughter. I hardly recognized you; you're much changed."

Dee looked back at him feeling all those raw emotions she thought she had overcome and felt her resolve melting like ice as he gazed at her with the same impassive expression. She said with more cheer than she felt, "Aye, I've returned, father…Daeghun. How have you been? It must come as a relief that you've fulfilled your promise to my mother and you're free of the responsibility of me. Your life is your own again. Oh, your brother sends his affection, and Judge Oleff told me to say he misses your talks. He's been very kind to me and helpful since my vigil, father. I've wanted to return before now to talk with Rhetta and Bevil to try to explain about Lorne...and I need to talk to you before I go, but it's been difficult what with the trial then routing the Luskans at the Keep, and now I'm recruiting workers for my…the Keep I've been charged with restoring. I figured if I didn't come now, I might never find the time…but 'tis just as well I tarried I think, or I might have said some things out of anger I would later regret..."

She trailed off, realizing she was babbling nervously, twisting a lock of hair around her finger like she did when she was a girl and she feared his disapproval. What would her Greycloaks think if they saw her now? What did she expect him to do or say? Had she expected him to throw his arms around her like Georg and Brother Merring had done when he had rarely shown her such affection? She forced a bright smile and continued making small talk as she bent down and dug in her rucksack. "I brought back your brown tunic I accidentally packed the night I left, and I bought you a bow string jig in the city..."

Daeghun looked at her, so changed, but so much the same. He almost didn't recognize her at first with her cropped hair and wearing a warrior's sleeveless tabard over her studded leather armor with a design of two crossed swords over a bear standing on its hind legs. He said with a soft sigh, "Calm yourself and say what is on your mind, Dierdre."

She straightened up, took a deep breath to steel herself and blurted out, "All right, I need to know, when you sent me away with the shard…" She opened the pouch she kept the shards in and poured them out into her hand and held them out for him to see. "Father, did you know about the shard in my chest I've carried since that battle that killed my mother?"

He gasped, eyes wide with alarm staring at the shards in her hands that gleamed in the fading light. "You have brought the shards here? Then you must leave at once! You're a danger to everyone the longer you're here."

Dee blinked back tears from the sting of his words, and she growled her first response as she put them back in the pouch, "As welcoming as ever, father."

He replied coolly, "Was that human sarcasm? It is so difficult to tell."

She folded her arms across her chest and said tersely, "You need not fear another Githyanki attack. They gave up their pursuit of the shards after we killed their witch, and we've dealt with the King of Shadow's minions who also sought them for now."

Daeghun raised an eyebrow and replied with his normal calm demeanor restored, "The Githyanki? I have heard their names mentioned only once or twice in passing: invaders from the outer planes, a fierce foe. Still, perhaps the hunters are just biding their time before attacking their prey. It would be best if you do not stay for long." He closed his eyes then added, "And to answer your question, no, I wasn't aware there was a shard lodged in your chest, though that would explain the speed at which your wound healed and the strange things that always happened around you as a child. It must have passed right through her and into you." A look of horror appeared on his face for a moment.

Cillian growled lowly at the long ears, not understanding the words that were passing between them but sensing from their tone that he was upsetting his bonded companion. Dee dropped down to her haunches and threw her arms around him to show him there was no danger. He gave the bear a small, tight smile as he held out his hand to him and said, "The bear is very devoted to you. He suits you."

She continued patting the bear's neck. "Why is it you never had a bonded companion, father? I don't recall any critter being particularly attached to you while I was growing up."

He grimaced. As she feared, almost every word out of her mouth caused him pain. After a minute he replied, "My first companion was a swamp otter. I've had several others over my long life, but...I didn't accept the puma Silvanus sent me last time." His eyes became clouded with pain.

Dee understood that this was one more thing he had had to bear losing in a life that had known so much loss. She replied softly, "It must be difficult to be so long-lived. Let's start over, Daeghun." She ran a finger absently over her heart where the scar was. She stood and looked around the village and the people gathering and sighed wearily, pushing her hair back behind her ear. "You are right. I should leave anyway, but the horses must rest, father…Daeghun, and I don't think the others share your concern, though they probably should. We will camp yonder in the field behind your house and leave on the morrow as soon as Orlen and his sons are ready, and once my other business is complete."

She had given Brother Merring the offering from the temple in Neverwinter when she first arrived, and she made a mental note that Grobnar had taken care of identifying the Harper agent and passing on the warning, so that was one less thing she had to do. As she thought about that, she gave him a quizzical look.

He looked puzzled as well and said, "What is it, Dierdre?"

She grinned as she raised her left hand beside her ear and gave Daeghun the same signal. To her surprise (though it wasn't so surprising later when she thought about it) Daeghun blinked and returned the gesture just as Tarmas had done then smiled slyly back at her for just a moment. Dee whispered, "Well. That explains the many times you went out in the middle of the night or had a sudden need to go hunting and left me at the Starlings, or that time you left me with that innkeeper's wife while you were off with her husband. You and Tarmas both? Very well then, this is what we've learned, and you two must get the word out south at once."

She filled him in succinctly about what she had learned of the King of Shadows and his growing power as well as his cult of shadow priests building an army of undead, and she was glad she didn't have to go into what happened the last time he rose to power since Daeghun had been there. She finished with, "You've no doubt seen the spreading dead zone in the Mere. My friend Elanee hasn't been able to contact the Circle of Merdelain or the Circle of the Neverwinter Woods either, and the few druids we've found have been cursed so they can't shift back from their animal forms. The druids seem to suffer from his dark influence more keenly due to their ties to the land. Please take care when you venture into the Mere, and give the word to the surrounding villages. I would guess that there's less than a year before he regains his power and returns to this plane, and you may have to spread the word to evacuate before then."

He said softly, "I sense you are more sure of your course then when you left, Dierdre. I will pass the warning along. Now if that is all, you should rejoin your companions and the rest of the villagers."

Several more heartbeats passed silently between them as she studied his face, trying to read his emotions, before she swallowed and said, "No, that's not all. I would like, no, I deserve to know about my mother, though I think I've figured out the story with what I've heard about her in Neverwinter."

He didn't answer her for a few minutes but he looked off in the distance, his face contorted in pain. "Yes, I imagine you do deserve to know what I can tell you about her. Before you ask, I don't know who your father was. She never said, and my people value one's privacy."

Dee looked away and shrugged, "Doubt she even knew anyway. Apparently half of the men in Neverwinter could've been my father. Not that it matters." She hesitated then added, "I can't do it now, but if you would like recompense for your time and expenses in raising me, let me know how much you expect and I'll honor the debt."

He stood there stunned gaping at her, feeling a pain in his midsection that couldn't have hurt more if she had punched him. He blinked at her, then blinked again before he said, "Why...would you think I would want that, Dierdre? You owe me nothing." He turned and looked off into the distance past the wheat field again as if meeting her eyes was too painful. "When your mother was little older than you, adventure sought her out as well. We met in a tavern and were drawn together by mutual necessity. There were others with us, and some tales of our adventures were told. But not all such stories end well. One day we both realized that of the original band, only we two were left. I had had enough of death, especially of those close to me."

Dee shuddered as a chill passed through her and involuntarily glanced at Shandra and Neeshka, hovering a discreet distance away. "Uncle Duncan said that was why he stopped adventuring and bought the tavern. Did my mother give up adventuring as well? I know that she was performing in festhalls and taverns in Neverwinter in the year before I was born."

He shook his head. "Your mother was spun of a different silk, and maintained her vitality in spite of loss."

Dee wrapped her arms around herself, feeling chilled though the day had been unseasonably warm. "From what I've heard she lost her vitality, drowning her pain with drink and men in that last year. You don't have to hide the truth on my account. Or did you know that about her? I have to ask, were you and she lovers too, Daeghun?"

He scowled angrily at her but fought to control the anger before he snapped, "That really is none of your business, but since you asked, no." After a moment he continued more softly, "When I settled in West Harbor with my Shayla, she would visit us from time to time**. **A heart can heal over time. I had become content with my bride and my new life here. This was Shayla's home, and she was happy to be back. One day when Esmerelle returned she was thick with child—you."

He closed his eyes remembering back to those days. "I helped Shayla deliver you because the woman who served as the village midwife then was off delivering another baby. I cut your cord and placed you in your mother's arms. You were a loud, happy tow-headed toddler who always seemed to be underfoot, mine anyway. Those were... good times. When you were a child you were so full of life. I could not have children, as much as my Shayla desired it. Your mother still felt the call of the road, but she stayed for you. Yet she knew that death could come for her, as it had for our friends and our allies. So she exacted a promise from Shayla, a promise readily given, that if something should befall her, Shayla would care for you as her own. As fate would have it, the promise would be fulfilled, but not by my bride, but by me."

Dee's voice cracked as she said, "Aye, but I don't doubt she was plannin' to go back on the road when she was killed. She was probably telling herself it would be just for a season, but who knows how long she would've been gone. It would've been Shayla and you raising me anyway. I don't see Esmerelle being happy for long in such a small village, baby or no. I should be glad you took on the responsibility. Some of my companions...they weren't so lucky when their folks died." She glanced over where Casavir had come up to wait discreetly beside Shandra and smiled sweetly at him.

Daeghun followed her eyes and noted the way the tall, dark-haired young human smiled back shyly at his foster daughter. "Your friends are very protective of you."

Dee smiled and replied, "That they are. Daeghun, I want you to know I've come to appreciate what you did for me when you could have packed me off to a temple like my friends Neeshka and Cas over there and called it good, or given me to one of the other families here to raise. It couldn't have been easy when I expect you just wanted to disappear into the swamp with your sorrow. I used to wonder sometimes if you would ever come back to me, and that's why I started followin' you and learnin' your ways, so I could make myself useful to you and worthy of your notice. I understand, Daeghun. Mutual necessity, you said...Aye, I have some companions that, honestly, we're not friends, not even close; I suppose bound together through mutual necessity is a good way to describe it. But if they showed up some day under similar circumstances, I'd hope I'd do what I could for them, even if it meant raising their kid. I suspect such was the case with you and Esmerelle too."

He answered with an exaperated sigh. "You are quite mistaken about your mother, Dierdre, but I suppose that is because you only know one side of the story, and you have a right to know the rest, or as much as I know. Despite what you may think, she was a good woman. I counted her amongst my dearest friends. I've always thought that something about living too long in cities poisoned her as much as she clamored for the crowds and the excitement. What can I tell you about her..." He closed his eyes and thought. "She had a clear, pure soprano that was so perfect, many of her listeners were surprised she was human and not of my people. She studied music and dance formally as a child, and later she learned the ways of unarmed fighting from a monk that traveled with us...She was very loyal and kind and deceptively deadly with her rapier. You get much of your grace from her."

They walked away from the villagers towards the bridge that led to Daeghun's home. "What else can I tell you. She was estranged from her family though I can't tell you the cause; I never asked. She sold her family estate in the Blacklake District after the death of her father—Oleff may be able to tell you if any of the rest of them still live. After that she used the gold to set up a scholarship for poor but gifted students at the music academy at the shrine to Milil. I know she also donated generously to the temple of Ilmater's ministry of feeding the poor. She lost many dear friends, just as I did...that as much as anything drove her to drink." He blinked a few times, and Dee saw that he was blinking away tears. "She lost two husbands over the years as well, the first when she was not much older than you. She lost a child she was carrying when she was badly wounded during a battle outside Zhentil Keep. She was also a master Harper, and that as much as anything kept her on the road."

Dee allowed the tears to flow freely as they sat on a fallen tree. Daeghun shuddered and waited several minutes until he had composed himself before he continued. "This is difficult to admit, Dierdre. In truth, Esmerelle never intended for me to care for you alone; such warmth is difficult for me, but she loved me despite my dark moods. But you had no one else when they died, so I did as best as I was able. I certainly wouldn't turn you over to family members that Esmerelle refused to acknowledge." He shook his head and gestured towards the villagers gathering for the feast. "I see other fathers and marvel at how they do it. If it was ever in me, it was lost long ago, buried in the graves of fallen friends. I know your years with me have not been easy ones, yet I hope you have grown up well in spite of me."

She drew close and put a comforting hand on his arm, which was about as near as they ever came to an embrace while she was growing up. "The years with me have not been easy for you either. I keep thinking back to the last time we spoke when you sent me away, how I threatened to beat the hells out of you, and I'm ashamed of my words. I think I've just come to realize how well I grew up thanks to you, and also thanks to Rheta Starling." She stepped back, sensing how uncomfortable he was becoming, though the only physical sign was a slight twitch at the corner of his mouth.

"I need to go find her now, father." She grimaced and added, "Truth be told, I don't know if I'm gonna survive this battle. I seem to be pretty invulnerable despite all that's happened, but such is the case of those who are marked by fate, as you know from the histories." She took a deep breath and wiped at her face before she continued, "I'd like to hope that we could become friends some day, if seein' me doesn't cause you too much pain. I'll keep your name too unless you object. I've grown up with it, and I can't imagine changing it now. What's more, I'm keeping my uncle too. It's true he has his faults, but so does everyone, Daeghun, even you, and he's become very dear to me."

Daeghun replied softly, "Dierdre, of course you can keep my name unless you have cause to change it." He glanced over at Casavir watching Dee and smiled knowingly. "I have not always approved of choices Duncan made. My brother is a subject for another time, perhaps, though you should know I would not have sent you to him if I did not trust that you could take care of yourself and that he could take care of you." He put his hand on her arm and said softly, "Now go to your friends. There are no doubt many hungry villagers waiting for you."

Dee looked over to see that Casavir and Shandra had been joined by the others, except for Bishop, and she frowned, worried for a moment about what he was up to. She beckoned the others over. "Come, father. I know you wish to be alone, but I want you to meet my friends."

Daeghun shook his head. "I will see you before you leave, my daughter. You and your friends may stay at my home tonight. It should be safe enough if we take watches. I want to explore the ruins in the Mere at once." He paused as Elanee came around from behind Casavir and stared at the lovely young druid. "Is that the druid of the Mere you spoke of?"

"Aye, that's Elanee. She's become a good friend, tho' she acts like she thinks she's my mother sometimes." Dee paused for a moment and looked at her thoughtfully. "She confessed she's been watching me for her Circle since I was a child because of the strange things that seemed to happen around me, so I suppose seein' me grow up has given her feelings like I'm her kin."

Daeghun's only reply was a murmured, "I've seen hints of her, but she's very elusive when she wants to be. She is lovely, isn't she?"

Dee remembered his earlier words, "A heart can heal over time," and thought, "Aye, with the right balm." She wished there was some way to get him to the Keep. She suppressed a grin and replied, "Aye, she is."


	20. Don't Ask, Don't Tell

Chapter 20 Don't Ask, Don't Tell

Usual disclaimer: Rhetta Starling's dialog is paraphrased from the OC, which is owned by Obsidian among others. As always, none of the characters are mine except an occasional NPC and a certain bear lovin' ranger.

"I always suspected Orlen was somethin' of a druid," Dee whispered to Elanee as they walked back from his barn. Thunder had managed to bolt out the barn door and jumped two fences to get to one of Orlen's mares. Orlen's sons ran for Dee and Casavir, but by the time they got back to his place Thunder had successfully ended his dalliance and was nuzzling the mare.

Casavir flushed with embarrassment and apologized profusely to Orlen. "I will of course pay for any injury done to your mare, sir."

Orlen only chuckled. "Nah, she's a sturdy girl, that one, and he's only doing what he's supposed to do. Might as well keep him out here for now though to save my barn door." He winked at Dee and added, "I take it this city boy doesn't know enough to ask for stud fees."

Dee introduced her companions to the assembled Harbormen as they seated her at one of the trestle tables. Daeghun was nowhere around, which didn't come as a surprise to most of the villagers. Thus Shandra and Casavir were seated on either side of her deflecting questions and nudging Dee to eat, not talk. But one bite of Granny Buckman's baked beans and Mrs. Lannon's mustard greens with bacon and Dee understood what 'tastes like home' meant and didn't have to be prompted again. She thought wistfully of the happier times when Rhetta Starling would have been here with her apple-cheese tarts that always used to win the blue ribbon at the Harvest Faire.

There was no sign of any of the Starlings to her dismay, so Dee excused herself as soon as she had eaten, left Cillian in Elanee's care, then strode alone to the Starling house. The Harbormen watched her in silence just until she was out of earshot, and then they turned on her companions, mainly Casavir, with questions about what really happened during her duel with Lorne.

Dee walked as determinedly up the path to the Starling home as she had that morning she went to the arena. Just as she was about to step on the porch, however, the door swung open and Rhetta stepped out, followed immediately by the two youngest Starlings, who ran around her and pounced on Dee, laughing and hugging her. Dee hugged them back and smiled tightly at Rhetta.

Rhetta pulled them off her and said, "You two run along to the Buckman barn with the others to get some supper then see if you can spend the night at the Marshes so I can talk to Dierdre in peace!"

One of them (like most of the villagers, Dee never had been able tell the twins apart) whined, "Aww Ma, that's no fun! We want to see Dee!" The other retorted, "Shut up, dummy! We've been tryin' to get Ma to let us out to see the horned lady and Dee's bear all afternoon, remember?!" He stuck out his tongue for emphasis, and the first punched him in the arm in reply as they scampered off.

Dee called after them, "Oi! You two stay away from Cillian―he's a bear, not a puppy!" She glanced hopefully past Rhetta but didn't see any sign of Bevil through the open door. Her heart sank, and she bit her lip and steeled herself not to break down. She sighed, "Rhetta, I'm so sorry. If there had been any other way..."

Rhetta took her hand and said, "Hush now. Come, let's talk inside." Dee wiped her feet on the mat on the porch mindful of the Starlings' fine Calimshan carpets and Rhetta led her inside the house and shut the door behind them. "Sit down in the parlor. I was just making some tea, though from the look of your face, you could use something stronger. And you've grown so thin! Let me get you something to eat." It would be pointless to protest that she had just eaten, so Dee sat down in one of the over-sized, sturdy chairs in the parlor bought to accommodate Mr. Starling's weight that had seemed enormous when she was a girl.

The waterclock on the table next to Dee had struck the seventh hour when Rhetta returned carrying a tray laden with generous slices of apple tart and her best Lantanware teapot and cups (which actually had come from a factory in Waterdeep). When she was an gangly teen, Rhetta had taken it upon herself to teach Daeghun's awkward tomboy daughter how to conduct herself in polite society and drink tea like a lady. She set the tray on a side table along with a stoppered earthenware jug that contained her homemade elderberry cordial. Seeing the jug brought back memories of the time when they were twelve that Dee, Bevil and Aimee snuck one out of the cellar and shared it in the Starlings' barn, the kissing game that followed (Aimee's idea--Dee got her first kiss from Bevil, then Aimee took most of the rest), and of how sick they got afterwards. She couldn't even look at the sweet liquor without gagging the next winter when Daeghun tried to give her some for a cough. Rhetta poured a generous shot into each of their cups then filled the rest with tea. She smiled tightly and explained, "Bevil hasn't been able to drink it straight either since that time you made yourselves sick with it, but it's all I have in the house."

Dee blushed and took the offered cup and gulped it down. The tea was just the thing to cut the cloying sweetness of the cordial, and she relaxed a bit despite herself as she felt the tingling warmth spread through her body. She licked her lips in anticipation as Rhetta topped the tart slice with creamy honeyed goat cheese and handed a plate to her.

Rhetta broke the silence. "They say you're back from your travels, but not for good." She refilled Dee's cup with the cordial and tea blend and took a more ladylike sip of her own.

Dee nodded though she felt maddened by the ritual of making polite conversation, but she filled Rhetta in briefly on her new duties as she tossed a piece of tart crust to Bevil's dog Nasher, whose warm brown eyes implored her as his tail thumped against the chair. She chewed a bite and closed her eyes to better savor it and listened to Rhetta fill her in on the village gossip. After they had each dispensed with the formalities and had drunk another cup (and she waited as long as she could stand), Dee asked, "Where..I mean how's Bevil? I heard about that attack on him from Georg."

Rhetta frowned and looked towards his room. "He hasn't been himself since it happened, and he refuses to talk about it to anyone. He only goes out to work in the daylight or to militia practice. That's why the alarm went out when you rode up. Everyone's still a bit on edge."

Dee felt on the verge of tears and she gulped down another cup. Surely that alone, terrible as it must have been, was no reason for Bevil to avoid her. Was it because of Lorne? Could he be ashamed to face her because of what his brother had done? She dabbed at her eyes as Rhetta refilled their cups and said with her voice breaking, "Hope he comes out soon. I've been so lookin' forward to seein' him, and I don't know if...when I'll get back here."

"He's out, Dee. I don't know when he's coming back." Rhetta didn't have the heart to tell her the truth. She had announced Dee was coming up the walk and shook her head at Bevil's reply: slamming the back door as he sprinted outside. He was hiding in the barn too ashamed to face her, but not for the reason she and his mother assumed.

Dee fortified herself with another drink of liquid courage before she blurted out, "That Cain, he's an ass. What he said―it wasn't true! Lorne and I tore one another up pretty good, but he was alive when he yielded the field, and his people had a cleric at his side as they carried him off. I don't know where he is...they captured the Luskan ambassador, but he wasn't with her. When we retook Crossroads Keep from his master, we didn't find...him there amongst the Luskan prisoners." She caught herself before she said "his body" and shuddered at the near slip. "Sand, the mage who defended me, said his falchion bore an evil enchantment, so mayhap the blade cursed him and he'll come to his senses now 'tis gone." Dee didn't really believe this, but it felt good to offer his mother this bit of cold comfort.

Rhetta drank quietly and the silence deepened again. Finally, when Dee thought she would go mad if Rhetta didn't say or do something in reply, Rhetta set her cup on the tray and said, "You did what you had to, Dierdre. I don't doubt that you had no choice but to fight him. But I do wish there had been another way. I still find it hard to believe that Lorne was working for those Luskanites. He was always such a gentle boy."

Gentle? Dee blinked incredulously, remembering all the times he pulled her braids, twisting her arms and leaving the friction burns called 'snakebites,' his knuckles roughly rubbing her scalp as he held her in a headlock, pinching her budding breast once roughly. Her foster father saw the bruise when they were bathing in the river the next day, and that was the closest Dee had ever seen Daeghun come to fury as he demanded to know if Lorne had touched her anywhere else. However Dee remembered the boys receiving even worse treatment at Lorne's hands. Yeah, real gentle that one, and what's more, when the parents of his victims complained to Rhetta, he made sure Bevil paid for it later, so Bevil's friends learned to keep their mouths shut. The only one who ever kept Lorne in check was Cormick. She took another drink and said the only thing she could think of. "Why would he have turned against Neverwinter? I can't imagine his life was easy serving a master like Black Garius."

Rhetta took a deep quaff, no longer restraining herself to ladylike sips, before she replied. "He wrote to me after he left. He was bitter that he lost so many of his friends in the war, and his captain kept him from the front lines. He said Lorne wasn't skilled enough, but Lorne said he thought the man was jealous of him. He was strong and militia-trained. He would have outshone them all. But none of that matters now. I'll pray for him that he finds peace."

Dee said softly, I'll pray for that too, Rhetta."

They sat quietly finishing the tart. Dee could feel the effect of the cordial all the way to her toes, especially because she had refrained from strong drink since that last night with Bishop. Yet she didn't refuse when Rhetta filled their cups again. She had resigned herself to not seeing Bevil this time or possibly ever. She said absently as she was about to take her leave and flee to the comfort of her companions, "Your tart is delicious. Don't suppose you would give me the recipe?" Not that she could see herself cooking for a family any time soon. Maybe some day, if she lived long enough to have a family.

Rhetta blushed and grinned like a child despite her sadness at the complement to her cooking. Rhetta had always been house-proud and relished the fact that no one in West Harbor could match her tarts, and she had a wall of blue ribbons to prove it. She eventually stopped entering the Harvest Faire baking competition to give someone else a chance to win. "I'll write it out for you before you leave." She sighed and added, "You know Dierdre, I used to hope you and Bevil would get together and I could teach you all the cooking secrets I would've taught a daughter."

Dee met her eyes and said evenly, "Bevil had his heart set on Aimee from the time we were not much older than the twins, and never on me. But even if she hadn't returned his feelings..." She shrugged. "I'd begun to love him like a brother, and it would've been too weird."

Rhetta replied with a decidedly unladylike grunt. "Anyway, 'tis time you were on your way before we finish the jug, though I believe we've nearly done it already. I've got a tart in the kitchen you can take with you. I imagine you want to share it with one of those handsome men who rode in with you and couldn't seem to take their eyes off you." She grinned at the blush this provoked. "I thought so." She reached over and pushed Dee's hair back from her face. "It's odd that you cut it this way. Your mother bobbed it like that just before your second birthday, and Shayla had a fit! It was the only time I'd ever seen them quarrel. I suppose it's easier to take care of with the life you now lead, but let me tell you, men love to get their hands on a woman's hair."

Dee nearly dropped her cup. She sobbed, "Oh Rhetta!" and the tears that had threatened to burst forth all evening finally poured forth with a vengeance. Rhetta took the cup from her hand and set it safely on the table then pulled her onto the floor next to her and lay her head in her lap. She stroked Dee's hair as the story of the wild affair with Bishop tumbled out. She told as much about the passion as she could to a woman who was the closest thing she had ever had to a mother, then she told her about his irrational jealousy, the way he used to grab her by her braid and slap her and how that always led to coming to blows when she got sick of it and fought back. She sobbed, "That last night, he was a mad thing, Rhetta. I saw it in his eyes. He was cryin' and I knew he wouldn't stop until he finished me. I tried to get away but he grabbed me by it. I pulled out a knife and slashed through my braid to get away from him. I could just as easily have stuck it in his chest though, I was so desperate to get away!"

Rhetta continued stroking her hair and let her get it all out then said with an eerie calm, "Tell me you've ended it with him. Trust me on this, child. He'll only get worse if you marry him. That's how my Berne was."

Dee sat up and blew her nose loudly on one of Rhetta's good lace hankies then drained another cup, as did Rhetta. She remembered that Berne Starling had been a merchant who would appear with the seasons in a wagon filled with exotic things he had picked up in his travels and would leave just as suddenly as he arrived. Then he stopped coming back altogether. "He beat you too? I knew somethin' was wrong, but I was too young to understand what." She remembered Daeghun rarely left her at the Starlings when he was home unless he had to, and the whispers of other village women. Then once when she was about six Georg and Pitney Lannon knocked on the door late one night, and Daeghun followed them towards the Starling farm. Bevil's father was gone the next day. Bevil told her that his father would take a belt to them for the slightest or imagined offense, and she thought that explained some of Lorne's meanness. He fought back; Bevil learned to hide. She hadn't realized that he also beat his wife, but that explained Rhetta's frequent 'sickness' when he was home. "You're a beautiful woman, and you must have had many admirers in Neverwinter. Why would you be with a man who treated you like that?"

Rhetta's face was lined with regret. She said with a hushed voice, "They're never like that at first, Dierdre, though there were signs of his temper I was too inexperienced to read." She told Dee the story of herself as a young woman, in truth a girl, who met a tall, burly, handsome man (as big as Lorne, but with Bevil's good looks) at the Greengrass Faire. He was flush with coin to spend from his work guarding a merchant caravan from Waterdeep, and he let her show him the city. He first charmed her, then her mother, and he wanted to take her home to West Harbor. But her father refused to give his consent to her marriage to a common sell-sword. The night after he left she filled a bag with her best clothes and some jewelry given her by her mother and ran down to the docks where he had booked passage for her on a ship to Highcliff. He met her there and brought her to his family's farm in West Harbor.

Dee sat back and asked, "You eloped?" She took over the job of refilling their cups. Dee was astonished to say the least. Rhetta had always seemed so stable and well, matronly. She couldn't imagine her as a reckless young woman eloping to be with her love.

Rhetta leaned back into the comforting embrace of the chair and continued her tale. They were married the next Highsun by an itinerant priest of Ilmater who rode a circuit around the small villages too small to support a priest. She said wistfully, "But Berne hated being here once the novelty of showing off his things wore off. He never had the heart of a farmer, and he chafed at being trapped here in this stinking swamp village and was bored with the monotony of everyday life. Lorne came along that Hammer, and by the next Marpenoth Berne announced he had to go back on the road to support me and the squalling brat, as he called him. I was so terribly lonely while he was gone. If I hadn't had Lorne, I don't know what I would have done."

Dee said quietly, "I remember that he would be gone for a long time, more than a year sometimes. Bevil told me once he forgot what his pa looked like." Bevil had also confided to her during one of his father's visits that he was counting the days until he left again, but she kept that to herself.

Rhetta stared at the far wall then stood shakily and lit a lantern. "Come along with me to the cellar, Dierdre. We need another jug." They crept slowly down the steps, both feeling the effects of the drink. Rhetta hung up the lantern on a hook and pulled a jug down off a shelf. She opened a crock of pickles and offered one to Dee and took one herself. She told Dee how she knew nothing about farming, but she was a hard worker who could haul fifty pound sacks of flour and sugar to her father in his bakery and could cook and sew too. She fell in love with farm life, quickly making friends with the other women of the village. She pulled the cork from the neck of the jug and took a swig then passed it to Dee then plopped heavily on one of the steps, and Dee squatted on her haunches beside her on the earthen floor chewing the pickle as she listened thoughtfully .

She told her of his passionate emotions, tender and loving one minute and cold and raging like a Deepwinter storm the next. He'd show up with some trinket and beg her forgiveness once his anger passed, and he was skilled at persuading her that somehow she had provoked him. Dee shivered; that was uncomfortably familiar to her. By the time Bevil came along Berne had learned that the real coin was to be made in merchanting, buying and selling far south as Amn and as far east as Sembia. She cast a pensive glance at Dee. "I sometimes wondered why he bothered coming back when he would get into such a black mood after no time at all. It was like this house was nothing more than a storehouse for everything he accumulated in his travels. I think in his own way he loved me, but as one more pretty trinket he picked up." She took another quaff and passed the jug to Dee. I was sure he had other women, but something always led him back here to us―to me, rather. He never warmed to the boys no matter how hard they tried to win his love."

Dee gazed up the stairs. "You've had no word at all from him since that last time he was here? That was before the twins came along. They've never seen him."

Rhetta shook her head forcefully then swayed on the step. "No, but then I don't expect to." There was something so final about that statement. Dee raised her eyebrow and watched Rhetta as she stood up unsteadily and paced the room between baskets of produce stored for the winter. She paused looking like she was on the verge of speaking and stared at Dee, who could see the conflict written on her face. She came close and reached out and touched the symbol of Tyr Dee wore around her neck next to the symbol of Meilikki. "Dierdre, if I tell you something, will you swear not to speak a word of it to anyone, not even Bevil? Gods, especially not Bevil!"

Dee gaped at her. What Rhetta could possibly have to tell her to invoke such a promise? "Of course, I swear. Rhetta, what is it? You're scaring me."

Rhetta said sharply with a touch of desperation as she looked up into Dee's eyes, "Swear it by Tyr first, The Even-Handed, The Just God whose symbol you're wearing."

Dee shivered, feeling as if she was on the verge of terrible knowledge, but she had to go on just as she knew that Rhetta needed to unburden herself. She clasped the symbols around her neck , kissed them, and said, "I do swear it, in the name of Meilikki whom I serve, and I call on Tyr as witness that I will keep your confidence. And what's more, I swear by Kelemvor I'll hold your secret fast until I stand in His presence. Gods, Rhetta, what could be so terrible?" But even as she swore the oath she had already begun to figure it out.

Rhetta nodded, satisfied, and blinking back tears she continued. "That last time Berne came home...by then Lorne was nearly a man, taller than his father though he hadn't filled out yet. He always tried to protect me from his father's fits just as I had thrown myself over him and taken his blows when he was small. It seemed all he did was argue by then. Berne had been home for several months that time and found fault with everything I did―with the way I dressed, the way I wore my hair, the way I cooked, the way I kept house, and with the way I ran the farm even though I ran it well enough to afford to hire a few hands." She laughed bitterly. "Of course he was jealous of them too. One evening we were in the kitchen. I was cutting up a chicken he insisted I kill for his supper though I'd been sick all day. He growled, 'What's wrong with you?' and I confessed I thought I was with child again. He flew into a rage, screaming about how all I did was tie him down, how he didn't believe it was his, and he was slaving away to support someone else's bastards. He struck me hard and I fell back against the table. I don't recall how it happened. He lunged at me. I still had the knife in my hand, and then somehow the knife was sticking out of his chest. He pulled it out and blood bubbled out of the wound like a fountain. Can you believe he laughed at me! Then he said, 'Rhetta you stupid cow, this is my favorite shirt! I'll take it out of your hide!' He raised his hand and fell over dead." Rhetta wilted against the steps and sobbed quietly.

Dee gasped, "You killed him?" She sat beside her and was about to ask what they did with him as it would be difficult to hide something like that in a small village. But the comprehension grew, and she answered her own unspoken question. "You couldn't have buried him outside without takin' a chance on someone seeing, so..."

Rhetta took another drink then wiped her mouth on her sleeve and passed the jug to her. "Lorne...he ran in as I was standing over him dumbstruck. He must have heard his father shouting. He took one look then ran back and bellowed out the door, 'Bevil, Pa's gonna beat your ass!' I stared stupidly at him, and he said, 'Don't need little brother walkin' in, do we? Don't worry, Ma. I won't let you hang for that bastard.' That was enough to snap me out of my stupor. I ran and barred the doors while Lorne wrapped him in a couple of blankets and hauled him down here. He's yonder under those baskets of apples. He dug a hole while I scoured the blood from the floor and the table. There was so much blood, Dierdre!"

She slumped forward with her face in her hands and shook. Dee waited silently until she was ready to go on. "Lorne made me throw everything―the knife, the bloody rags, and even made me take off my dress and toss it into the hole, then I watched him fill it in. I became hysterical. He grabbed me by the shoulders and shook me hard and told me to pull myself together or he would hang with me. So I did, I swallowed the pain and fear and let my son take charge. Lorne thought of everything! His father had this cobalt blue silk cloak that you could see across the village, and Lorne put it on that night in case anyone might see him and rode off with his father's wagon. He said it was better if I didn't know what he did with it. He told me before he left to confide to my friends that Berne left me for another woman. The both of us were marked by it though. I was sick for a long time, and it wasn't just because of a difficult pregnancy. I sometimes thought Lorne left here because he couldn't bear to be in this house any longer. Sometimes I'd find him sitting here, just staring at the grave." She moaned, "Oh Dierdre, can the gods forgive me?"

Dee pulled her close and held her face in her hands so she could look into her eyes. "You've had to live with the guilt all these years, and it's robbed you of your son and your health. I'm no lawyer, but I did a bit of readin' of law for the trial. There was no intent to kill him, so I believe 'twas self-defense. I'm no priest either, but I've been touched by Tyr, and Rhetta, he's a loving, merciful god. I believe Tyr will forgive you if you're sincerely sorry. Come, let's ask Him." They knelt on the cellar floor and said a drunken but heartfelt prayer together.

Bevil had been watching Dee from the barn through the open-curtained front window, hating himself for his cowardice. He saw them leave the room, but she didn't come outside. What could they be doing? He nervously jumped at every sound and cursed himself for the folly of running outside to avoid Dee as he was now trapped here in the barn. He had his old hiding places in here though, and it was safer to stay here than to run back to the house in the dark. He reached up and pulled down a couple of old blankets stored on a shelf and shook out the dust and turned to bar the door. Then he spotted one of Dee's companions, the woman who gave the recruiting speech, coming towards the barn. He ducked behind a couple of empty barrels feeling like even more of a coward as the woman entered the barn. What was she doing here anyway? She looked around, looking like she was bored and turned, about to leave when he bumped a scythe hanging behind him and winced as it clattered against the wall.

Katriona spun at the noise. "Who's there?" She drew her long sword and demanded, "Show yourself now!" She felt foolish even as she said it and expected that she had interrupted a couple of kids having an innocent tussle in the hay.

Bevil instantly obeyed and stepped out with his hands raised, though he had the presence of mind to reply, "This is our barn, Miss. I should ask you what are you doing in here."

His directness caught her breath away. What was she doing here indeed? She hadn't set out to snoop around in some farmer's barn when she went for a walk. Perhaps it was the open door that caught her eye and the nostalgia for a way of life she hadn't lived for years that drew her through it. She flushed and grumbled as she sheathed her sword, "I was just walking off supper and thought I saw someone in here." She looked past him and insinuated, "Sorry if I interrupted anything."

Bevil blushed as what she implied sunk in and replied indignantly, "There was nothin' to interrupt. I'm surprised you're not with the rest of Dee's friends dancin' in the barn."

She smirked at him and chuckled softly. "I could ask you the same thing, Harborman. What are you doing alone out here? I thought I had met everyone in West Harbor, and I wouldn't have missed a chance to give my speech to a fine strapping lad such as yourself. I'm Katriona Helmdal, one of Captain Farlong's sergeants."

This provoked another blush and a wide grin. "Aye, I heard you. That was a fine speech, Sergeant Helmdal. I'm Bevil Starling." He shook her hand vigorously. "My ma needs me to help her with the farm, or I'd think about enlisting." He muttered as he looked at the floor, "But I'm too much of a coward to be a proper soldier anyway. Dee deserves better than the likes of me. Katriona, please don't tell Dee you saw me hiding here."

She replied coolly, "You can call yourself a coward and despise yourself forever, or you can face whatever it is you fear and overcome it, Bevil Starling." She recalled the name and realized he belonged to the family of the Luskan assassin that her captain fought. Poor lad, having to live with something like that. Too bad he hadn't enlisted. She looked at his broad shoulders and deep chest appreciatively and wondered what was in the water around here to grow them so big. And he was militia-trained too! He could be enlisted as another sergeant based on that fact alone. She mused that she certainly could get used to seeing him every day. "I better get back. I'll leave you to whatever it was you were doing in here, but think about what I said."

He watched her cross the village green and head back to the Buckman barn then shut the door and barred it and climbed up into the loft and rolled up in the blankets. He lay back and thought about what she said as he drifted off to sleep.

* * *

* * *

Bishop strutted out onto the porch, yawned, stretched, and scratched, and grimaced at the swamp stench that seemed to get worse at night. As he took a piss off the porch aiming for the widow's roses, he spotted Dee on the path in the distance. There was something in her walk―an almost imperceptible stagger―that betrayed her drunken vulnerability. He smiled cruelly as he observed that the damned bear wasn't with her either. His predatory instincts were fully aroused, his nostrils flared, and his impulse was to give chase, though he wasn't sure what he would if he caught her―fuck her or tear her throat out, or both, and it didn't particularly matter in which order.

* * *

* * *

He took a deep calming breath and reminded himself this wasn't the time or the place as Karnwyr looked up at him and whimpered. Just then the farm wench inside called his name, ready for another round of plowing. He grinned and turned towards the door. A sated predator rarely chased prey when he had a fresh kill; it wasn't efficient. It was satisfaction enough that she was alone, and he was beginning to believe he _had _ ruined her for other men. Besides, why did he want to chase that skinny, bossy wench tonight when he had one in the house who so far would do anything he wanted, who had overflowing cups that were each more than a handful. He chuckled as he thought of burying his face between them and stepped back inside.

* * *

* * *

Casavir left the dance early much to the disappointment of many of the West Harbor maidens and matrons. He never had been good at conversation, and he was worse at dancing. After two clumsy attempts he gave up and walked outside where he took a seat on a stump along the path. He watched for her to leave the Starling's house but at a discreet distance, ready to offer her comfort if need be but not wanting to intrude. He wasn't sure how long he had been sitting there waiting. Cillian eventually ambled over and chuffed at him then waited beside him quietly. Shandra came to see if there was any word then went to bed and left them to their lonely vigil.

* * *

* * *

The villagers were cleaning up the barn and beginning to drift off to their homes, and the local mage stopped and asked tersely if Dee had come out of the Starling home yet, his concern for the Starling woman apparent. They waited silently together, two men too repressed to speak the truth to the women they loved. The mage wandered off and left him alone again. Then the bear growled and Casavir saw the ranger step outside onto the porch of a house, naked as the day he was born, and he scowled in disgust as he saw him deliberately relieve himself on all the flowers below. Something caught the ranger's attention, and Casavir continued to watch him until he lost interest in whatever it was and went back inside. He looked back towards the Starling's house and realized to his chagrin that Dee had come out while he was busy watching Bishop.

* * *

* * *

Cillian had been watching Bishop too until he went back inside the den. He caught Dee's scent before he saw her and immediately ran to her side and nuzzled her, and she dropped to her knees and threw her arms around the bear. Casavir was feeling more than a bit foolish sitting there watching her, yet he couldn't bring himself to leave, and there was a slight shudder in her shoulders that tugged at his heart and made him want to stay. "Tyr help me, I _am_ as bad as Bishop the way I shadow her," he muttered under his breath. Just then the bear looked at him and she tilted her head and peered in his direction. He flushed with shame and feeling like more of a fool, he stood and walked to her.

* * *

* * *

Dee stood, swaying slightly. Casavir could tell that she had been drinking heavily, and her red-rimmed eyes, which the torchlight and her spectacles only amplified, told him she had been crying. She greeted him with a lopsided grin and said softly, "Cill says you've been waiting with him for me. That's sweet of you, Cas. You two are so faithful. Come, walk me back to my father's house." He swallowed nervously as she linked her arm in his and leaned against him. They walked along in silence, which was unusual for her. She had a knack for conversation with just about anyone and could always find something to draw him out of his usual reticence, but she walked on as silently as if they were two ghosts passing in the night. He could read the signs well enough to tell that her talk with the Starling woman had left her deeply troubled. As they reached the bridge, he forced himself to say haltingly, "My lady...Dee. I don't wish to intrude on your reverie..."

* * *

* * *

She looked up at him and blinked as if she had forgotten he was there. "Cas? You're not intruding. You're never intrude as much as I wish you would, but you're sweet. I ever tell you that?" She blinked and turned staring into the water.

* * *

* * *

Cillian nudged him towards her then stood on the other side of her. He stared off at the lazy river and summoned up his courage. "You appear troubled. If you need to talk of what transpired with the Starlings..."

* * *

* * *

She bent her head back to look up at him and murmured, "Would that I could, Cas. I _could_ tell you, but then I'd have to kill you." She gave a half mad chuckle while he stared at her in shock. "And then I'd have to kill myself too, 'cause I couldn't live with myself. You're too sweet. Did I ever tell you that? Not enough I guess, but it needs to be said. Every day. But no, my dear, some things can't be told. I promised. Vowed, in fact. Shouldn't be told. Ever. Sorry, I'm kinda drunk."

* * *

* * *

He chuckled softly. "Ah yes, I noticed. Still, I swear I will hold whatever you tell me in the strictest confidence."

* * *

* * *

She reached up and patted his cheek, "I have no doubt of that, Cas, but I swore an oath to a whole houseful of gods, and I wouldn't bind you to an oath that would be hard to keep. I can tell you someday, mos' likely when we're waitin' in Kelemvor's queue. It'll pass the time. Yeah, that's the place. I think I'll be there soon enough, and I 'spect you'll be right beside me like you always are. What I really need from you you won't give me anyway."

* * *

* * *

He blinked indignantly. "Very well, my lady, but you are wrong; you only have to ask if you need anything."

* * *

* * *

She looked up at him through her lashes and replied, "Don't make me put that to the test, paladin. You know, you could learn somethin' from your horse."

* * *

* * *

He smiled and said, "What is it I could learn from Thunder? I admit I don't have the rapport that you have with your bear, but I'm working on it."

* * *

* * *

She poked him in the chest and said, "Yeah? Would you jump over two fences to get to me?" She put her arms around his neck. He was so tall, even to her, that she had to stretch slightly to kiss him softly on the lips. She pulled back to look at him staring back at her in shock, so she took his arms and put them on her waist, murmuring "Well if I leave it up to you, you won't do anythin' until it's too late. 'Tis your nature. Put your hands on me." She kissed him again and again with chaste, friendly kisses until she felt him return them and they became more than just friendly. His arms slid around her and he pulled her to him and kissed her gently for a few shining golden moments before he came to his senses and pulled away.

* * *

* * *

He held her out at arms' length and said firmly, "Dee, we must stop. You're not yourself, and I can't allow myself to take advantage of your condition."

* * *

* * *

She tried to pull him to her again and pouted. "So? I still know my own mind! Cas, I need you tonight. I need you to hold me." She collapsed against his chest, suddenly wracked by deep shuddering sobs.

* * *

* * *

He could do that much for her, and he said a silent prayer for her as well. He held her and let her cry, murmuring "There now, let it all out" as he caressed her back and kissed her softly on the top of her head.

* * *

* * *

She pulled away looking panicked. "Hells, I'm gonna be sick!" She leaned over the rail on the bridge and vomited into the water. He grimaced but came up beside her and grabbed her spectacles and held them in one hand while he rubbed her back with the other until the wracking heaves subsided. Once she was finished, she muttered "What was I thinkin' mixin' a bottle of Rhetta's cordial with her pickles, but I didn't feel I could refuse her."

* * *

* * *

He frowned in distaste at the disgusting combination as he handed her his water skin. "No my lady, I should think that would make anyone sick. Come along, let's get you to bed." He took her hand and led her across the bridge.

* * *

* * *

She took a deep quaff of the water and rinsed her mouth and said, "Yeah, promises. Bed sounds good. Could you do something for me though?"

* * *

* * *

He replied hesitantly, hopeful that her amorous mood hadn't abated, yet fearful at the same time. "If I am able, my lady. But let us speak of it in the morning when you are yourself."

* * *

* * *

She caressed his cheek and gazed into his eyes, cool and soothing as two mountain pools. "Don't call me 'my lady' if you don't mean it. If you can't hold me in your arms tonight, could you at least stay beside me and sing that hymn you were singing this morning to me until I fall asleep? I could listen to you singin' forever."

* * *

* * *

He blushed and smiled at her. "I would be honored."

* * *

* * *

Dee awoke to the sound of Brother Merring's strong tenor greeting Lathander with song down by the river. She sat up and grabbed her throbbing head and sunk back down in the bed. She slowly looked around the room. Casavir was asleep in the chair across the room rolled up in her old quilt, snoring softly, and Cillian was curled up next to him. She winced as she recalled her slutty behavior the night before. She sat up more slowly this time and pushed back the covers. She vaguely remembered casting off everything but her small clothes, and Casavir bore it all stoically as usual, waiting facing the wall across the room until she nestled under the covers then singing for her as he promised. "Hope Sand can make up some ale purgative," she thought as she stood and tiptoed across the room grabbing her laundry from her pack, shushing Cillian and opening and closing the door quietly so she wouldn't awaken Casavir. Grabbing a towel and some soap from the shelf, she went outside.

* * *

* * *

Cillian ambled along the bank looking for fish. She nodded to Brother Merring standing skyclad on the far bank with his arms upraised, offering his skin the blessing of Lathander's light. She stripped and stepped into the water. "Hells hells hells, that's cold!" she exclaimed and considered getting out. Instead she dove under the water, chiding herself for getting spoiled by city living. The only time they heated water to bathe when she was growing up was in the dead of winter. She rose up out of the water and started washing her clothes and was greeted by Daeghun as he climbed down the bank and joined her the river.

* * *

* * *

He dunked himself under the water then stood and shook out his hair and took the soap she offered him. "Good morning, daughter. I...was looking in the attic last evening, and I found a trunk with some of your mother's things that I had forgotten was up there. I left it for you in the hall. There isn't much left in it, but what's there is yours by rights. Most of her clothing Rhetta made over into garb for you when you were a child."

* * *

* * *

Dee grinned wryly, remembering vaguely some of the frilly silky garments she had as a child. That was where she probably got a taste for silk small clothes. "Thank you, father. I really appreciate it."

* * *

* * *

Elanee and Naloth came out of the house then and joined them in the river. Finishing his devotions, Brother Merring dove in for a quick dunk then climbed back up the bank and lay in the sun to dry. Dee caught herself looking at the thick mat of russet hair covering his body (though she grimaced at his hairy back) and had to stop herself from speculating on how hairy Casavir was. Sand stepped out of the house he had magicked himself, smirked at the sight of the gathering in the river, and slipped off his robe to join in. Dee caught herself looking sidelong at his lithe body too as she climbed up the bank and hung her laundry on rocks along the river, deciding she preferred the fur and hard muscles of a human.

* * *

* * *

Casavir stretched stiffly in the chair then sat up with a start as he realized Dee wasn't in her bed. He smoothed out his wrinkled tunic as he went downstairs, calling for her softly. The sound of melodic Elven speech outside caught his attention, and he opened the door to the sight of the local priest, Dee's father, Elanee, and Sand sitting on the river bank talking softly as they dried themselves and dressed. He averted his eyes from their nakedness and was greeted by the sight of Dee walking towards the house toweling off her hair. He flushed and gasped for air and tried to turn away but found himself rooted to the ground. Dee shook out her hair as she lowered the towel and saw him staring at her. She stared back at him for a moment then blushed scarlet and snatched up the towel to cover herself.

* * *

* * *

Sand leaned over to Elanee and whispered as he fastened his robe, "Care to wager how long it's going to be before the Captain comes to one of us in search of a prophylactic potion?" 


	21. The Paladin's New Hobby

Usual disclaimer: Most of the characters are owned by Obsidian and a lot of other people and not by me except for a certain bear-lovin' ranger and an occasional NPC. As always, constructive feedback greatly appreciated!

Chapter 21 The Paladin's New Hobbies.

Orlen tipped his hat, grinned at Dee and said, "Aye, whatever you want, Cap'n," as he made room in his wagon for her mother's chest so Dee could take it back to the Keep. She still wasn't used to such deferential treatment from the elders in the village, and sometimes she felt like a little girl playing dress-up. She hadn't had the will to look inside the chest yet, but it wasn't very heavy so she suspected there wasn't much left. She ran her hands lovingly over her mother's initials carved in the center of a circle of knotwork surrounded by irises, daffodils, and hyacinths on the top of the cedar chest and put the key that opened it in the pouch with her shards. Not that she need worry about losing the key. It had a simple enough lock that she could pick herself, and Neeshka had exclaimed that she could pick it in her sleep. That she hadn't attempted it yet, even though the tiefling was dying to see what was inside it, was a testament to their friendship.

The Widow Jons approached Dee at Orlen's house wearing her best purple silk dress and a wide-brimmed hat with matching ribbons to protect her fair skin from the sun. She carried a small valise and a wicker basket containing her small ginger tomcat, who eyed his surroundings nervously and hissed and spat at anyone who came near. She smiled brightly at Dee and said, "I asked Orlen, and he told me to ask you since you're the captain if I might ride along with him as far as Highcliff so I can catch a ship from there. You see, I've sold the farm to the Mossfields, and I'm plannin' on going home to Neverwinter to start a business."

Dee pushed her hair back behind her ears and replied as tactfully as she could, "Ma'm, 'tis a dangerous journey even with so many skilled swords with us, and we're only stoppin' when we have to rest the horses. There won't be anywhere to sleep but on the hard ground either." She didn't really think the woman would slow them down too much, but she had enough non-combatants to worry about without adding another to their number.

The widow wasn't deterred, however. "Now Dierdre, don't call me ma'm, call me Maisie. I can help with the cooking when you make camp, and you know I can drive a wagon too. You see, I've been savin' and with what I got for the farm I have enough to buy my own place. My aunt is Mistress Arliss of the Bearded Lion, where I worked when I met Lewy. I can go back to work for her, and she said she'd help me start my own place."

Dee raised an eyebrow. She was twelve when she learned from some older kids what it meant when Mrs. Jons occasionally hung out the red lantern, usually when the odd merchant or traveler passed through the village. The rest of the village didn't care as long as it was discreet, knowing that Lewy Jons was too shiftless to make a decent living farming, though one or two grumbled that there should be a law against it (but there wasn't). Dee also was acquainted the Bearded Lion from her time with the Watch. The mistress of that festhall was known to be a priestess of Sharess as well. She tapped her chin in thought for a moment as an idea occurred to her. "A festhall you say? Do you have experience runnin' a business, doin' the books, ordering supplies, and such? Ain't much pleasure in that, but it must be done."

The widow smirked at her. "I did all that and more for my aunt, and I also used to help audition the talent. Besides, there _is_ great pleasure to be found in mundane tasks such as balancing ledger books of neat columns of numbers. It's a matter of attitude."

Dee pondered for a few more moments, momentarily distracted wondering how she auditioned the 'talent.' "There's a large three-storied house at the Keep that adjoins the _Phoenix Tail Inn_ that might be suitable for a festhall. It needs the roof fixed, but 'tis sound otherwise. My 'Cloaks need some kind of...recreation, but I want a clean, safe establishment with reasonable prices, no gambling, and especially no gods-cursed Shadow Thieves. We'll be getting more merchant traffic in too once we start patrolling the roads. You can think about it, and if 'tis not to your liking, I'll send you on your way with an escort to Neverwinter."

Dee was about to walk away, but she frowned as a thought occurred to her, and she turned back and whispered, "Look, about Bish―if you're hoping for something with him, let me warn you that he doesn't care about much of anything but hunting and his wolf." As the words left her mouth they seemed oddly familiar, and to her chagrin she remembered Malin giving her roughly the same warning.

The widow replied with a low, lewd chuckle. "Sweetie, you don't have to be jealous of me. There's only one thing I wanted from him, and I got it four times. Besides, I've no interest in a man who talks about his former lover as much as he talks about you. I think you could get him back if you worked at it."

Dee thought of her discussion with Rhetta and shook her head decisively. "Believe me, 'tis not jealousy. That's never going to happen." She shuddered involuntarily, disturbed by the knowledge that Bishop apparently hadn't moved on as she had assumed. She walked away quickly and busied herself with getting on the road.

Apart from offering him a heartfelt and embarrassed apology later that morning as they prepared to leave West Harbor, Dee didn't speak to Casavir again about what she said or her behavior that night, though try as she might she couldn't forget the softness of his lips on hers. In fact, they made a concerted effort to avoid the subject altogether and only spoke to each other in generalities all the way back to the Keep. She had a habit of touching people lightly while speaking with them, but Shandra observed her casually put a hand on Casavir's shoulder and immediately pull away as if she'd been scalded. Her friends whispered speculations about whether they had had a falling out. There didn't appear to be any rancor between them, however, and they still smiled shyly at each other then looked away quickly. Neeshka observed that if anything, Dee displayed as much longing when she looked at him as he did when he gazed at her. Casavir's nature was reserved, and he wasn't in the habit of confiding in anyone but Tyr; Dee normally told Shandra and Neeshka almost everything but was as taciturn as Casavir on the matter. Bishop smugly interpreted their actions as a sign that the paladin was losing his influence over her.

Dee was beginning to think she was doomed to spend as much time guarding caravans as she did fighting bandits, orcs, and increasing numbers of undead which were still a problem on this part of the High Road. In addition to Orlen and his sons, one of whom had enlisted, they had picked up two more recruits in West Harbor, and she was glad she had the foresight to shove a dozen standard issue gray cloaks wrapped around as many long swords into her _magic bag_ so they at least looked like soldiers. They acquired three additional recruits among the refugees at Fort Locke, and several more who joined up in Highcliff when they met Edario. Before they left the leader of a party of merchants asked to travel with them as there was safety traveling with a small squad of Greycloaks, no matter how green most of them were.

They arrived at the Keep on a drizzly, muggy Uktar afternoon. Dee was pleased to see as they rode up that the guards at the gate looked more like soldiers and less like farmers playing soldier, and she rode Blossom around the grounds to inspect the progress. Orlen, Jacoby, and Edario were shown to their new quarters, Katriona was introduced to the other sergeants and she and the new recruits were installed in the barracks, and Dee left the Widow Jons in Sal's capable hands so they could see if they could work out a suitable arrangement. Her companions dispersed to their own rooms for welcome baths. She handed off Blossom's reins to one of Wolf's minions and headed for the Keep alongside Cillian.

She chuckled sardonically as she wondered how far she would get before Kana accosted on her with a stack of dispatches to read through and decisions which needed to be made immediately (even though she was sure they had been waiting to be made by someone for the past tenday), and she remembered grimly that Torio Claven would surely have been delivered into her keeping by now. She had made it clear to Kana before she left that she had no intention of becoming a warden and the woman was not to be treated as a prisoner as long as she cooperated, but how far could she trust her? Sand had assured her that Lord Nasher wouldn't have released her without subjecting her to some powerful _Geas_ spells to insure her compliance, but still Dee dreaded having her around as a constant reminder of the trial. She made a note to ask her if she knew anything of Lorne's fate for the next time she saw the Starlings.

She nodded to the guards at the door and was assaulted by a familiar booming voice as she entered. "Oi lass! I was wondering when you were gonna get back here!"

"Khelgar!" Dee wondered for a heartbeat how the hells he got that close without her hearing him as she dropped to her knees and swept him in a bear hug, and Cillian licked the dwarf on the top of his bald head. "Now you're a welcome sight! How long have you been here? What is it that you're wearin'?" For the dwarf garbed in a simple long gray tunic and matching loose trewes in place of his half plate. His garb looked more appropriate for sleeping than fighting.

The dwarf returned the hug, patted the bear, and bellowed, "This? 'Tis what we monks wear, lass! Can't fight as well weighed down with all that armor." He drew back and looked her over. "I swear yer taller than when I left, but yer grown almost as skinny as that slip of an elf. Ain't they feedin' ye here, or do ye have a mind to take up tavern-dancin' too?"

Dee laughed loudly enough to match his. "A tavern dancer? Me? Aye, they feed us well, but when do I have time to finish a meal without bein' called away?" She sighed and gave him one more hug for good measure. "Gods, I've really missed you, Khel. I hope you're stayin'! Have you finished your training then?"

He laughed loudly, sending his full belly into a spasm of jiggles. "Nay, I've not finished with me trainin' but there's naught else they can teach me for now. 'Tis now time to train meself."

She stood and took his hand. "You'll have to tell us all about it at supper. Come on, Kana and her stack of urgent dispatches can wait. Suddenly I'm hungry as a bear." She ignored Cillian's exasperated chuff. "Yes, I know you've been telling me," she thought as she scratched him behind the ear.

The next morning they held a service to officially dedicate the restored temple to Tyr and perform the investiture of the new priest, Brother Ivarr. Casavir assisted with the ceremony and at one point helped the dwarven priest pull a drape down, which revealed a small statue of the god which had been placed in a niche in the wall above the altar. Brother Ivarr thanked him when he finished and came to sit beside Dee and Shandra and announced, "Kindly give your thanks to our long-legged brother here for carvin' this fine image of our god. 'Tis not bad for human work!"

Dee turned to Casavir as they walked back to the Keep after the service and whispered, "You did that? How? When?"

He flushed scarlet and shrugged as he looked down at the ground. "In my spare time, when I wasn't training or working with Thunder. My father was a stone mason and sculptor. That statue of Tyr in the temple in Neverwinter was his work, as are many of the others in Neverwinter and some of the monuments in the cemetery. I used to help him and my brothers in his workshop before..." He closed his eyes and trailed off, and she took his hand and squeezed it to help him through the painful memories. He composed himself and continued in his usual soft-spoken way, "One of Master Veedle's assistants was an apprentice with my father, and he saw me admiring a small block of marble and recognized me. He's been giving me instruction and lent me some of his tools, but the work itself is none of my doing but Tyr's."

They were the only ones who didn't notice she was still holding his hand as they entered the great hall. "Don't sell yourself short, Cas. I think you had more a hand in it than you're admitting. Do you think..."

He waited a few heartbeats then filled the pause. "Yes, my la...Dee?"

She smiled up at him hopefully. "I'd love to have a proper shrine to Meilikki and a shrine to Chantea out by the farms. Most of the farmers follow her."

He smiled back at her and replied, "I don't know if they will speak to me through the stone as Tyr did, but I will try, for you."

Zhaeve had stayed behind at the Keep when they left for West Harbor researching an ancient ritual that she hoped would give them power over the King of Shadows. She called Dee into the library a few days after they returned and explained what she had found. Dee read over carefully the notes the githzerai had dictated to one of Aldanon's assistants, asking questions and looking into several tomes discussing the Ilefarn Empire, listening patiently to Aldanon, pouring over a modern map of the area then calling Sand in to give his advice. She weighed the facts then decided the ritual was indeed worth pursuing and they would leave the next tenday. She explained, "I have business in Neverwinter that requires my immediate attention. These ruins have been there all this time; another tenday won't matter."

Zhaeve seemed uncharacteristically impatient. She implored, "Know that I believe we must leave at once, Kalach-Cha. Time is of the essence if we are to complete the ritual before the King of Shadows regains power."

Dee put a hand on her shoulder and said calmly, "I do know, but I also want to know what we're getting into before we set out for these ruins. In the meantime, you should get better acquainted with the horses if you're planning to come along." She patted her shoulder as she sensed a frown behind the Githzerai's thin veil. "Don't worry. I'm beginning to think if I'm destined to go there, I'll get there when 'tis the right time for me to be there, and not a day sooner. I have to talk to Kana to order supplies and ask the others who wants to come along. I can't imagine they relish the idea of getting back on the road so soon in the middle of Uktar." She gave a hopeful glance to Sand, who was trying his damnedest not to meet her eyes. She sighed softly and left the library with the elf beside her.

Dee tried to ignore Qara's snort as she passed her in the hallway. She gave the girl an inquiring look and heard her mutter, "Don't count on me!" as they passed.

In truth, asking Qara to come along hadn't even occurred to her, and as she was thinking for a snappy comeback, Sand tossed his hair off his shoulder and retorted silkily, "Not a problem at all, Qara. I'll simply craft the captain a _Wand of Fireballs _ to take in your place. She won't miss you at all."

Dee suppressed a smirk and leaned close to whisper, "Sand, I love you." She understood his need to bait Qara. She heard from Sir Grayson's hairdresser that Qara's father had insisted on Sand's expulsion from the Academy after he gave Qara a well-deserved failing grade. He grinned, the tips of his ears flushing scarlet, and he replied loud enough for Qara to hear, "Count me in, dear girl. You need a competent mage along."

"Thanks, Sand. Elanee and Grobnar are probably in, though I'd rather Elanee stay behind to inspect the woods and mark out trees for the workers to cut and see that they're replanting what they take. As for Neeshka, now that major repairs to the Keep are finished, I need her to inspect it thoroughly for hidden passages and doors as well as set a few traps should Bishop feel the need to go through my small clothes again when he returns from hunting." She paused and pulled Sand into an alcove and whispered, "What do you think of havin' Neesh shadow Torio Claven? Her and the two I know she's trainin' amongst Wolf's minions? I'd like to know if the Claven woman's communicating with anyone here or outside of the Keep and what she's up to besides."

Sand pondered her suggestion. "If that Luskan banshee is communicating magically, I don't see how the tiefling would discover it unless she were to overhear her. Still, I agree it's a good idea to have Torio watched though I would think she would suspect us to do that."

Dee replied, "Good to know I'm not overly paranoid. I'll speak to Neesh then. As far as Arvahn, I can count on Khelgar comin' for sure. He's spoiling for a chance to show off his new fighting skills. Shandra I don't even have to ask, and the same goes for Casavir." She caught Sand smirking at her and raised an eyebrow.

He pinched her cheek and said, "I love that inane grin you get when you talk about him."

Dee grumbled, "I do not!" and forced a serious expression which only made Cillian chuff and Sand burst out in a high-pitched tittering laugh at her.

After an exhausting day in which Dee tried to ignore the presence of Torio Claven hovering nearby, she reluctantly ordered a squad of her Greycloaks to aid a halfling village beset by bandits. She felt like a nervous mother letting her children cross the street alone for the first time. She found that the captain was also expected to know how to adjudicate legal matters. The first one was the case of one of her sergeants who had been accused of taking a bribe from a caravan master to allow in a shipment of contraband from Amn. Dee listened tensely as Kana read the charges then as the man defended himself, gaining instant sympathy for Lord Nasher. She turned to Shandra and Casavir for their opinions, and after deliberating threw her hands up and shook her head. "'Tis a gray area; the law isn't clear, so I can't in good conscience convict him." She turned to the man and said sternly, "You're free to go, Sergeant. However, I trust you won't let it happen again."

She ignored Kana's disapproving scowl. She had planned on giving the man a flogging personally to make an example of him, but that was yet another practice Dee was determined to ban at the Keep. She turned to Casavir and said loudly enough for Kana to hear, "There shouldn't be any vague laws. How can we in good conscience prosecute someone who didn't know that what he was doin' was wrong? I'm thinkin' to ask Judge Oleff to loan me a few of his law clerks to read through the laws and clarify any others that are vague. Or do you think my wanting the law to be black and white is too much to ask?"

He took a deep breath as if carefully weighing his answer and smiled at her. "No, my lady...it may be difficult to achieve, but not impossible."

She smiled back at him. "I seem to be good at doin' the impossible."

That night she refused the assistance of the servants and hauled buckets of water from the pump down the hall herself. The maid had already filled a large copper kettle of water to heat on the fire, so she added that to the tub and got another bucket to rinse with. She placed her spectacles carefully on top of her mother's chest, bathed quickly, slipped into her nightgown and pulled back the covers to get into bed. But after tossing restlessly for a time, she abandoned the bed and curled up in a blanket on the rug in front of the fire beside Cillian. She snuggled against the sleeping bear and was just drifting off to sleep when she heard something from the room beyond the fire―Casavir's room.

She turned over facing the fire and realized that from this angle and with the fire dying down, she could see into his room through the shared fireplace. There was enough light that he must have candles lit or have brought a lantern with him. She could see his feet as he removed his armor then saw him fully as he sat on his bed across the room to remove his boots. He tugged his tunic over his head and washed his face in the basin. Dee knew that she shouldn't be watching him like this, that she might be outraged if he spied on her like this. Not really, she corrected herself, and besides, it wasn't spying she told herself. It was accidental and innocent...or at least it _had_ been at first.

She found, however, that it was physically impossible to take her eyes off his long, lean pale body, his sculpted muscles reminding her of the statues of ancient heroes in the park in Neverwinter, his broad shoulders, his chest thatched with a mat of dark curly hair that trailed down like an arrow directing her eye to his impossibly narrow waist and hips. She told herself she should look away even as she quickly reached for her spectacles. Her vision was focused enough now that she could tell that he needed a shave, and she wondered how he would look with a beard and how his stubble would feel against her skin. He was exercising, bending, twisting, and stretching, and she gasped now that he was in focus as even his slightest movement caused his powerful muscles to ripple under his skin.

He finished and knelt in front of the small altar to Tyr next to his narrow bed, and she took in his broad, muscular back, thankfully with not a hair to be seen, though there was something strange, some lines she could just make out. He began praying aloud, and she quickly turned away then, unwilling to intrude on that private moment.

She lay there quietly next to the softly snoring bear trying to get to sleep until she heard movement resume in his room. She rolled over before she could stop herself in time to see him strip off his trewes, and as he slowly removed his small clothes, she had to remind herself to breathe. "This is really too much," she scolded herself. "This is wrong in so many ways I can't begin to list them!" But she was pleased as he stepped out of them and stood straight. She took a long lustful appraising look and murmured, "Not bad, pretty average from what I've heard...Wonder how big he gets?" Cillian stirred and turned over to give her an annoyed look at disturbing his slumber. She gave the bear a pat and resumed her spying.

He must be planning to bathe before bed, and she tried not to think about whether he would appreciate her offer to be a back scrubber. He knelt and opened the chest next to his bed and withdrew what looked like a nightshirt and clean small clothes and lay them on his bed. He then withdrew a dark cylindrical bag big enough to hold a large dagger and set it beside himself on the floor. They were both awake, and she reasoned it was a shame to waste the quiet time. What he would say if she knocked on his door and asked him for a game of chess, like in that first dream she had about him? And there had been so many others now, and not all of them erotic. How did it go? She let him take her queen, and smiled at him coyly and placed her hand on his as he removed the piece then she drew him into a kiss...

Just as she was working up the nerve to attempt an ill-advised seduction, he paused as if deliberating something then quickly reached for the bag. He untied the drawstring and withdrew something long and dark, then untied a cord and gave it a fast flick, releasing several long leathery strands which had been bound around it. She stared wide-eyed in horror as she recognized its shape―a scourge―and realized it was no doubt the cause of those marks on his back. She recalled now one of the servants who worked in the laundry had complained as she delivered Dee's to her that it hadn't been easy to get out the blood stains on the back of one of Casavir's shirts as it had dried and was set. At the time Dee smiled wryly and quipped that it was indeed difficult to find a suitable place to do laundry in the middle of a battle, but she afterwards was puzzled as he had received no injury that she knew of, especially not to his back. Her suspicions were confirmed as he raised the cruel weapon, stiffened, and took a deep hesitant breath. Why would he do such a thing? And how could she stop him? Should she stop him? What right did she have to butt in to his business? The right of a close friend, she quickly and determinedly decided.

She jumped up thinking to go into the balcony door, but she couldn't very well burst into his room and explain that she she had been spying on him. She wasn't sure if their bond of trust could ever be restored after such an admission. She could barge in and tell him she heard something, but she would have to wait until after the first blow at the very least. She could knock and tell him she wanted to talk, but that would only stop him for now. She called out a silent prayer to Meilikki, to Tyr, any god she thought would listen to her. There was no sound from the next room, and she stooped to see what he was doing. She was relieved that he had lowered his arm, still hesitant. He ran his other hand through his hair then raised his arm again, and she knew in her heart that he had worked up the nerve to go through with it this time. She had to stop him! She let out a long, loud chilling scream.

Cillian sprang up looking alarmed and growled, then looked at her like she was insane as one of the guards in the hallway pounded on her door. "Captain! Are you all right?"

She waited a heartbeat before she replied through the door, "'Twas only a bad dream. I'm fine, but thank you."

She turned from the door and strode quickly to the balcony just as Casavir burst through his door calling out, "My lady!" He had only paused long enough to throw on his small clothes and arm himself with his hammer. He looked around for the source of her distress. "Dee? What is it? I heard..."

She looked away, not being able to look him in the eye as she lied to him, but she told herself it was only a white lie, and it was justified if it stopped him. "I had another dream about you, Cas. Someone was tryin' to hurt you!" She paced the balcony agitatedly, not looking at him and hoping he couldn't detect the lie.

He looked past her to inspect her room anyway, but he only saw the bear sniffing around. He turned his attention to Dee pacing the balcony in the nightgown he had bought her backlit by Selune, arms wrapped tight around herself against the cold, and he became aware of his own state of undress and stammered, "Forgive me. There was no time to make myself decent."

She replied, a burning blush spreading from her cheeks to her entire face, "There's nothin' indecent about your body, Cas. I've a mind to get you out in the wilds once this is over and let you live like a ranger until you get over this ridiculous sense of shame and are as comfortable with your body as Cill is with his." Her mind was racing. She had stopped him for now, but how long before he did that to himself again? And how could she even broach the subject? She turned away and heard him after a moment turn towards his own room, so she waited until he was across the threshold and quickly followed him, saying softly as she approached, "Should make sure there's nothin' amiss in your room." Being this close to him he had his back to her as he reached for his nightshirt, and she was shocked by the number of healing wounds and fine scars across his back. "Cas! Who did this to you?," she demanded.

He spun as he heard her and said in a strangled voice, "Dee! What are you doing in here! It's none of your concern!" He tried in vain to both cover himself and simultaneously step in front of the scourge lying on the floor and hide it from her view.

She looked from the scourge to his face, and he turned away unable to face her. "Cas...why would you...Forgive me, but why? Is this what they teach you at your temple? Or is it on my account, because of your feelings for me?"

He jerked on his nightshirt to cover his near nakedness and replied tersely, "Please leave me. I do not wish to discuss this with you."

She strode over to his desk and leaned against it, arms folded defiantly, daring him to look away. "Cas, forgive me, but we will discuss this now. You're too dear...a friend to let this pass." She softened her voice a bit and continued. "Cas, please, I know 'tis humiliating, but how is this just? I can't believe Tyr would wish this upon you. Not even if you've taken a vow of celibacy. Have you?"

He gazed at her with a sadness that made him seem much older than his eight and twenty years and replied quietly, "No, I have not." He gave her an imploring look. " Please, Dee. Let us speak of this later."

She sighed deeply, the anguish clear on her face. "The problem is I fear 'later' will never come. Tell me why..."

He sighed deeply knowing there was no escape. "Very well. I find myself wanting to...protect you before the others, and I fear that...I will compromise my vows to Tyr because of being distracted by my feelings for you."

She bristled at the unintended insult. "And what is so terrible about having feelings for me? So you want me! I want you too! No problem that I can see! If you're not celibate, and I sure as hells ain't either, why not take what comfort we can give each other? I can't believe Tyr would be so severe as to reject you for that. And mayhap if we acted on our feelings, you wouldn't find yourself so distracted. But beyond this, I'm not worthy of your torment. You should know I care for you deeply, but I don't love you. It's not you; I don't think I'm capable of loving anyone." He stiffened, looking stung by her declaration and paler than usual and still afraid to meet her eyes.

She took a few calming breaths then a few cautious steps closer to him, as if approaching a frightened animal. "I do have feelings for you. You're one of my dearest friends, and the only man I think about taking to my bed. Don't make that face, I'm being honest with you. I have dreams about you that would make you faint, us doin' things I'm sure no paladin would do. I have other dreams of us someday doing normal things...those give me hope for havin' some kind of future. There are so many things to admire about you, Cas. You have a gentle nature, you're kind and caring, and that paladin aura of yours always calms me when I'm fretful. Isn't that enough?" She reached up and caressed his cheek.

He shook his head and drew away from her hand. "No, it's not. And even if you declared your love, I fear a relationship would interfere with my service to Tyr. Dee, I don't think I would want to live if I fell out of favor with him again."

She frowned angrily, "So what you're saying is I'm right, I'm not worthy, that I'm not acceptable to Tyr, and he would reject you because of me? And you would continue to do that to yourself rather than acknowledge you're a man with a man's desires? So be it." She stooped and snatched the scourge from the floor before he could stop her and stepped back quickly. "But I swear right here before this altar that I'll get one of these things and give myself an equal number of lashes. In fact, I think you should do it right now. I deserve it for what my unworthy self has put you through." She jerked the drawstring gathering the neckline of her nightgown and turned, let it fall off her shoulders and exposing her back to him.

He looked horrified and was frozen in place. "Dee, don't. You don't mean it. I could never!"

She looked at him defiantly over her shoulder and raised the scourge in her left hand and gave it a flick as he snapped out of his stupor and rushed forward to try to wrest it from her grasp. She growled as she wrestled with him over it, "You know me better than that, Cas. If we can't work this out, there's only one thing for it." He got it away from her and tossed it across the room where it clattered on the floor. "It's either this: I get my own and take blow for blow, or...you leave my service. There's nothing else for it."

He gaped in disbelief and was about to repeat "You don't mean it," but he knew from the determined set of her jaw that she was not bluffing. He nearly choked as he said, "Very well, my lady. If that is your wish. I will leave on the morrow."

She balled her fists and shouted at him, "By all that's holy it is _not _my will, Casavir! I've told you what my will is, and I won't have your mutilating yourself on my conscience." They both looked over at the sound of footfalls outside the door in the hallway. She rolled her eyes and called out, "There's nothing amiss. Go back to your station." She lowered her voice to just above a whisper and continued, " It's not..._just_ of you to put this burden on me because you believe that being with me will make you fall." She wiped at her eyes, fighting back hot angry tears. "In fact, I have to wonder if it's not so much you fear that I'll come between you and Tyr as it is your desire to make yourself a martyr. Here I've been thinkin' I'm not worthy of your devotion, and mayhap 'tis the other way around! There, I said it!"

He staggered back as if she had struck him. "Do you think so little of me? If so, it is best that I do leave."

She wrapped her arms around herself as the tears streamed down her cheeks. "I told you what I think of you...I don't want you to leave, Cas. I don't think I could bear to have you gone. Still, if we cannot resolve this, then for your sake 'tis for the best...though it hurts so bad when I think about it I can hardly breathe!"

He gazed into her eyes and reached out one hand to pull her to him and murmured her name. She took his hand and let him lead her. He wrapped her in his arms, and held her as his own silent tears ran down his cheeks. Even in the midst of her own tears she had the presence of mind to notice his, and she became conscious that he bore an old deep wound that caused him to believe he had to hide his feelings, and her heart softened. After a time he whispered, "I don't want to leave either."

She whispered, "I couldn't bear it if you left, Cas."

He stroked her hair and they held each other until they had no more tears, then he whispered, "As long as we're being honest, Dierdre Farlong...You could also ask yourself why you can't, or won't allow yourself to love another. "

She looked up at him through a haze of tears. "What does it matter?"

He gazed into her eyes and murmured, "You demand honesty of me, yet you're not being honest with yourself. Your actions belie your words. What are you afraid of?"

She looked up into his blue eyes, as dark as sapphires and stepped back. "Oh Cas, I think what we need to do is start over."

He looked away as he reached forward and pulled her nightgown back up on her shoulder and tightened the drawstring. "Start over? What do you mean?"

She shivered at his cool touch on her bare skin and murmured, "'Tis just a tit, and a small one at that, Cas. It won't bite you."

He blushed and replied, "It's not just a tit, Dee, it's your tit, and besides, they drive me to distraction." She scoffed at him and he continued, "It's true. Your...nipples are like hard ripe berries, and the few times I've seen them all I can think about for hours, days afterwards is taking them in my mouth and devouring them."

She blinked at him in surprise and said, "Oh my! Finally some honesty. Now was that so hard?"

He blushed and replied, "You have no idea how hard it was, but it felt good to say it. Now what is this starting over of which you spoke?"

She stepped forward and took his hands in hers. "I don't even know you, Cas. I know you have a beautiful soul, but I don't know much else about you, and I can't be with another man who keeps his life a secret from me. I want to know everything about you, but only when you're ready. If Tyr approves, I give you permission to court me, and we can get to know one another."

He raised an eyebrow. "Court you? I'm not sure how to do that."

She smiled and put her arms around his neck. "I s'pose they don't teach you that in the temple. It's one of our quaint country customs and easy enough. We spend time together; we go for walks and we talk about things pretty much like we already do, but we do more things alone and with more touching. You bring me flowers or somethin' like that...We go out to the tavern together for supper, maybe go dancin'...then you walk me back to my room and give me a kiss at the door, and I might invite you in so we can sit before the fire and talk and kiss some more."

He smiled shyly. "I don't know much about dancing, Dee. I fear your toes will suffer."

She chuckled and lay her head against his chest. "I can teach you, as long as you can tell your left from your right. Or your sword arm from your shield arm. Think you can do that?"

He laughed and replied, "Sword arm, shield arm. I think I can remember that." They held one another until he broke the silence. "That dream you say you had..."

She shivered and looked away. "You know how it is, the bad ones fade. It's the good ones I remember, but I can't tell you about many of those either, at least not now. There was one though..."

He kissed the top of her head and murmured, "This one wasn't...erotic?"

She grinned at having distracted him from her lie and looked up at him. "Only the beginning, where we were lying in bed together early in the morning, but it was comfortable, like long time companions. You had a beard like Lord Nasher's, and your temples had gone gray. And not only that, but my belly was thick enough to make Khelgar happy. You were kissing me, and you started to unbutton my nightshirt and I whispered, 'You're insatiable,' and you chuckled and looked up up at me and said, 'And you're not?' Then, all of a sudden, I saw a head of dark wavy hair at the end of the bed and nudged you and you straightened up just before we were assaulted in a tickle attack by three small creatures, the dark one with your looks, a smaller one who favored me, and the smallest who had a thick mane of bright red hair. I don't know where that came from!"

He kissed her forehead and asked "What do you think it meant?"

She sighed and said, "I think it means I want to have hope for some kind of future."

She stifled a yawn, and he reflexively yawned too and said, "It's late. We should get to bed." He blushed and corrected, "Our own beds, I mean."

She threw her head back and chuckled loudly at him. "You're right though. I have to be on the practice field at Lathander's first light. Would you do something else for me first?"

He eyed her warily. "If I am able."

She sighed in exasperation. "Don't look at me like that. You look like the mouse bein' stalked by the cat. It would please me if you threw that thing into the fire, right now. Would you do that for me and swear not to do that to yourself ever again?" She nodded towards the scourge lying across the room. "I'll beg if I must...Please, Cas."

He released her, walked over and retrieved the scourge from the floor then knelt and stirred the fire and threw it in. He rejoined her, and they stood silently holding hands and watched it burn as if mesmerized by the flames. She broke the silence finally, squeezed his hand and murmured, "There, 'tis done. Walk me back to my room?" She took one last glance at the fire to make sure the thing was consumed then to lighten the mood said, "Mayhap I should have kept it to use the next time you come up with another pun like you did this mornin' in the larder. 'The lesser of two weevils' indeed!" She gave him a sidelong glance and saw him smile, so she continued. "The gods know I could use some discipline too, at the very least a good spanking."

Without thinking he murmured, "Yes, you certainly do at times," and gave her a light swat on her right cheek. He immediately recoiled in horror. "Dee I'm so sorry! Please forgive me, my father always did that to my mother. I didn't think."

She gasped then looked up at him through her lashes and murmured breathlessly, "Don't be sorry. I...liked that as much as I think you did, and 'tis all part of getting to know one another. I think I better get to my room before I am tempted to push you down on your bed and take matters into my own hands."

He swallowed nervously. "Yes, you should go before I let you. If this happens between us...I want it to be special, not a quick lustful...romp."

"You mean candles, flowers, lots of foreplay? Yeah, I think it'll be better that way." She chuckled at his blush. "I'd like that, though truth be told I like the excitement of a quick, lustful romp too sometimes. We can save that for the second time." She leaned up and gave him a swift kiss on the cheek then beat a hasty retreat for the safety of her room and the safe embrace of the bear, where she fell into a deep, restful sleep, all thoughts of the King of Shadows banished for once.


	22. What a Difference a Day Makes

Usual disclaimers: Most of the characters are owned by Obsidian and a lot of other people and not me, except for a bear-lovin' ranger and an occasional NPC. Warning, "M" language ahead.

Chapter 22 What a Difference a Day Makes

Neeshka and Shandra swooped in on either side of Dee like a pair of hungry hawks attacking a pigeon later the next morning after she returned from taking the newest recruits on a five mile forced march with full field packs. They cornered her as she led the exhausted 'Cloaks into the Keep for breakfast.

"Well?" The tiefling asked impatiently as Dee accepted a steaming plate of raisin-studded oatcakes with a side of bacon and a heaping plateful for Cillian too.

"Well what?" Dee asked innocently as she poured a cup of coffee, knowing very well what she wanted.

Shandra whispered, "Everyone on the floor heard you arguing with Casavir last night—_in his room_."

Neeshka squealed, "Yeah, so what happened, why did you tell him to leave, and how was he? Something _good_ must have happened, because he's still here!"

Dee rolled her eyes as she sat down at the Captain's table in the mess hall, and the two quickly pulled chairs over beside her and leaned in close. She pointedly ignored them, taking a few big bites, chewing thoroughly, and washing them down with coffee, but they wouldn't be dissuaded by her silence. With an exasperated sigh she said, "Look, nothing happened, alright? We talked, we agreed that there was something between us, we even kissed, but he still has doubts. And so do I, frankly. We're going to take it slowly. And besides, I don't want to jump into something I'll regret later like I did with Bishop." They grew quiet as Qara passed behind them with her breakfast tray, having only recently awakened. They nodded to one another, and Dee gestured to a seat at her table, but Qara muttered "riding lesson" and passed through the room.

Shandra snorted. "Riding lesson. The only thing she wants to ride is your master of horse."

Dee said gruffly, "Now what about that other matter we discussed?"

Neeshka pouted at Dee for a moment disappointed that there was nothing more forthcoming then replied, "I think we need to come up with a code name for her. I know! The dockside prostitute." Dee nearly choked on her coffee as Neeshka cleared her throat and gave her report. "After assisting Kana she spent some time reading in the library, mainly histories and law, oh and I also checked the books to see if she had left anyone a message or marked them in any way. She traded barbs with Sand, then she went for a walk on the grounds alone but spoke to Sir Nevalle briefly, she skipped dinner and went to her room early where she drank a whole bottle of Berdusk Firewine as she took a bath, pumiced her feet and painted her nails. Then she read a really trashy romance novel in bed that she hides under her mattress until she fell asleep."

She took a drink of Dee's coffee and continued. "There's nothing but a few more slutty dresses in her wardrobe though she has some _really _cute shoes, but she has freakishly tiny feet!" Neeshka pouted again and her tail drooped, because she had longed to 'borrow' the red pair with the bows. "Oh, and nothing radiated magic. No hidden compartments in her travel bag or hidden pockets in her clothes. I'd guess Nasher would've had Arin Gend check all of that anyway." She grinned at Dee like a child looking for approval and added, "Oh, and I found a secret passage near the kitchen pantry and another escape tunnel in the lower level, but it's full of rubble and bugs. You should send the spider down it to clear it out, and then I get first pick of what I find."

Dee considered this as she ate her breakfast. "Good idea Neesh, but I want Khel to take a look at the stability of the tunnel before anyone goes down it, including Kistrel. Ain't a better expert on ancient stonework than a dwarf. We really need to come up with a better code name for her than 'dockside prostitute' too. That one's too easy to figure out."

Shandra swallowed a gulp of her coffee and whispered, "Something to reflect her sparkling personality?"

Neeshka giggled. "Her personality? How about Bitchy?"

Dee shrugged and whispered, "_Sparkle _is probably expecting we're having her watched; I know I would if I were her, so keep it casual for a while until she lets her guard down. I'll speak to Kistrel after you show me that tunnel, if you're finished with the interrogation."

Shandra leaned in close and asked insinuatingly, "Well, how does he kiss? Did you enjoy the taste of his tongue?"

Dee shrugged. "We haven't gotten that far...yet. Mayhap tonight. We're supposed to have supper together and go dancin' at the _Phoenix Tail._ She grinned and added, "That'll let us get to know one another better, and I just might get a chance to test the flavor of his tongue when he walks me back to my room." She sat back scratching Cillian's head behind his ears absently before she continued. "I figured out while we talked 'tis more than shyness with him. I got the feelin' last night he's been badly hurt, so I have to help him heal before there can be a hope of somethin' more between us. He opened up to me, but I'm afraid if I push for too much too fast, he'll just close down again. It's just like with an injured or mistreated animal; you have to earn its trust first, and it'll open up to you naturally." She sighed softly at the eye roll from Neeshka and added, "I've got to talk to Bish too. He shouldn't hear about us from anyone else, so we decided to keep it quiet until I get back from Neverwinter and Bish gets back from hunting."

Little did she suspect that Bishop wasn't off hunting at all. He instead had gone to Neverwinter in part to make sure Duncan kept his big mouth shut, lay a few blond tarts, and see what dirt he could dig up on the despised paladin. He had some success on that particular aspect of his hunt, though he dismissed the gossip about the paladin and Ophala as too ludicrous to believe. True, she was a good looking wench, half-elven so it was hard to tell how old she was, but she had to be old enough to be his grandmother. He dismissed the rumor, unless the paladin was into that kind of kink. But he knew from experience most gossip has some basis in fact, and he determined to ferret the true story out. His hunt was rewarded the next morning when he was directed to a seedy brothel on the edge of the Merchant Quarter near the Dolphin Bridge. He knocked at the door, and after a few words and a few gold pieces given to the toothless crone who answered, he was ushered inside.

After some time a small, wasted looking blond woman in her early thirties wearing a gaudy loosely belted dressing gown sashayed down the stairs. He didn't have to get close enough to smell the wench to know she had a serious black lotus addiction. He could see it in her flat, hard eyes. She looked him over and said haughtily, "I don't usually take customers this early, but I understand all you want is information."

He turned on his most charming smile and said, "I can pay more if you're the one who used to dance at the _Boar's Bristle _who goes by 'Little Ophala?' I understand you know a paladin of Tyr named Casavir?"

She smiled seductively at him at the thought of earning more gold without having to do anything for it, though she wouldn't mind giving the handsome woodsman a tumble. "I used to go by that name before _she._..complained." In truth, Ophala Cheldarstorn had a 'cease and desist' writ delivered and threatened to sue if she didn't stop using her name. "Casavir...I can't believe he's even alive! Last I heard he ran off to some gods forsaken outpost. Come upstairs to my room and I'll tell you all about Casavir of Tyr."

His cruel smile was like that of a boy who has captured a butterfly to torture as he mulled over what he had learned the next day on his way back to Crossroads Keep. He got dirt on His Holiness and then some. He chortled with glee as he remembered her words—"He didn't last long the first few times." On the one hand he tried to convince himself there was nothing going on between the paladin and Dee, yet there was something in the way they looked at one another and those sly smiles they shared when they thought no one was looking. And because she was a wench, he could trust her about as far as he could throw her bear.

On the other hand, he cursed himself for caring that this meant it was truly over with her. Let her screw someone else! He wanted it over! What chafed his hide though was her picking _him _of all the men in the Keep, as if she had done it out of spite. He grumbled to Karnwyr, "She's too damn tall and getting too skinny anyway. His Holiness probably still doesn't even know what to do with his cock either, but that fickle swamp wench likes it way too much to put up with that for long. I give him a tenday before she tires of him and throws him over."

Dee was on her way into the Keep for yet another rousing session of paperwork before an afternoon training session with the newest recruits, but she had stopped to bring Blossom an apple as a treat and had brought one for Thunder too. She was about to leave when she spotted Casavir coming in on the other side of the stable, and she smiled at him and waved him over. He strode over to her, grinning shyly, and looked around and hesitated for only a moment before he gave her a soft peck on the cheek. "You seem to be winning my horse's affections."

She sighed happily and thought, "What a difference a day makes. I'd never have guessed yesterday that today he'd be kissing me so freely." Thunder finished his apple and nuzzled her on her other cheek. "I couldn't very well bring one to Blossom and not Thunder. But I'll not have truly won his affections until he lets me ride him." She felt her cheeks burn crimson, and she felt foolish that every conversation with him seemed to be mined with double meanings. She wasn't like this with anyone else; she could comfortably converse with nearly anyone from the fishmongers on the docks to Lord Nasher himself, but when it came to Casavir, she felt like she was always saying the wrong thing.

She sprinted to her room from the practice field that evening drenched with sweat and gladly accepted the aid of the servants in choosing black velvet leggings, a delicate white handkerchief linen shirt with a keyhole opening in the front that tied with silk ribbon, and her peacock blue watered silk bodice (even though it didn't fit her right anymore, but its color brought out her eyes). She dug through the drawer unable to decide which small clothes to wear and finally chose the white silk ones trimmed with heavy Cormyran lace. One of the servants, an elderly widow named Mrs. Fairfax, clucked approvingly. Dee made a mental note that she needed to go shopping when she was in the city and replace some of Bishop's favorites, that is the ones that hadn't vanished that she suspected he had taken. She wondered if this was a rite observed by other women when they took a new lover (not that they were lovers, she reminded herself), but she wasn't about to ask her friends and give them more fodder for gossip.

As Mrs. Fairfax was skilled with a needle, she offered to take the bodice in while the other servant, a small, curly haired girl named Shae polished Dee's new boots so she could take a hasty bath and wash her hair. It had taken her some time getting used to having servants, and she was still reluctant to let them do anything for her she could do herself, but it was pointed out by Neeshka that she was paying them well to work at the Keep, as much as they would earn in the city (with a whole day off a tenday, not just half a day) so she might as well get something for her money. Dee brushed her hair dry until it shone after she dressed and smudged a thin line of kohl around her eyes and added just a touch of color to her cheeks and lips. She picked up her spectacles then thought better of it and lay them back in their case on the dresser. As she thanked them and strode out the door with Cillian at her side, Mrs. Fairfax whispered loudly to the other as soon as she thought Dee was out of earshot, "I'll turn down the Captain's bed while you lay out that pretty lacy nightgown across the back of that chair, but between you and me, it's likely to be layin' there untouched in the morning."

Casavir was waiting for her at the Inn as they had arranged that morning in the hallway at Lathander's first light. Shandra and Neeshka were both there 'helping' the widow move furniture from one of the storerooms, and Sand and Khelgar also seemed to be sitting together for no particular reason. Khelgar was blushing all the way up his bald head and unable to make eye contact, and Sand was toying with a goblet of wine and smirked at her when she caught his eye. Elanee and Zhaeve were sitting together near the kitchen, and Grobnar was strumming softly on his lute as one of the off-duty 'Cloaks played along on a hornpipe. Even Torio Claven was there sitting with Sir Nevalle. Dee smiled fondly at Nevalle, and he nodded back. She reminded herself to tell him later that it was very kind of him to provide Torio Claven with a dinner companion so she wouldn't have to spend the evening in her room alone.

Casavir's smile lit up his face as soon as he spotted her and he stood as she walked up to the table. She gave him a quick kiss and took a seat and her friends and half the tavern burst out in applause, and she felt herself blushing and grinning as inanely as Sand had observed earlier. So much for keeping it quiet or taking it slowly. He took her hand and kissed it and said softly, "I know you said flowers are customary, but I couldn't find anything save a lonely rose struggling against the cold, and I didn't have the heart to pluck it."

She laughed and gave him another kiss on the cheek for that. "I didn't really have my heart set on flowers this time of year even though 'tis been a mild winter, but I appreciate the thought." He was dressed in a slate gray woolen doublet with silver buttons that looked like they had been recently polished and tight black breeches, and she couldn't hope but notice how they molded to the sculpted muscles of his legs. He must have shaved before he walked over; he smelled of sandalwood shaving soap and some sort of rosemary infused hair oil he had used to try to tame the soft curl of his hair.

She saw a few sketches on the table done with a charcoal pencil as she sat and exclaimed, "I didn't know you could draw, Cas! There's so much I don't know about you, and so much I want to discover!"

He flushed and said dismissively as he pushed them aside, "They're rather rough, but my father always told us it's important to have an idea of what you wish to accomplish before you touch the chisel to the stone. Jarral, my father's friend, has offered to make the image of Chantea for the shrine and help me with Meilikki, and he knows where he can get us some rose marble."

She smiled and picked them up to examine them more closely, "These are better than the stick figures which is all I can accomplish. You did these while you were waiting? I'm impressed!" She gave him yet another kiss on the cheek. "This one is Mielikki, and the one in the robe is Chantea?" The former was of a tall woman in leather armor with a quiver at her waist holding a bow in one hand. The latter was of a woman with long flower-studded hair falling below her shoulders holding a sheaf of grain in her arms. "The only suggestion I'd make to Jarral would be to make her hips fuller and her tits rounder." She chuckled at his furious blushing and added, "Well, it is Chantea, after all."

The Inn was rapidly filling up with Veedle's laborers and a few off-duty 'Cloaks. Sal hustled over carrying a tray laden with two bowls and spoons, a tureen containing the special of the day—a rich creamy seafood chowder—another dish of baby artichokes and garlic cloves swimming in a lemon butter sauce, and a round loaf of hot fresh-baked bread in a basket slung on one arm. His cook brought over a bucket of fish heads and entrails for Cillian, who tucked in right away, happy that the two leggeds weren't smart enough to eat the best parts. Sal deftly set it all before them and ran off for their drinks. Dee ladled him a bowlful then herself, and they ate quietly for a few minutes casting furtive glances at one another between spoonfuls until Dee broke the silence as she sliced them some bread. "The widow was talkin' about wanting to have a dinner service nightly in the main room of the festhall and have a few private dining rooms as well. She's plannin' to offer what she called 'fine dining' like at the Mask while Sal caters to the common folk. I guess we'll be expected to eat there, but give me Sal's stews and chowders any day."

Casavir replied softly as he glanced around the noisy tavern and toyed with his chowder, "I can understand the need for privacy and quiet conversation." He flushed and looked down as he realized what he had said. "That was rude. I'm very sorry, my lady."

She chuckled and reached out, squeezed his hand and whispered, "That wasn't rude. 'Twas just your opinion, and sometimes I agree with you. But you must have gathered by now that I like bein' in the midst of a crowd...some of the time." She glanced at their companions, most of whom had moved together to a table nearby and were trying to look casual as they nursed their drinks. Sal brought over a bottle of sparkling wine and two thin goblets, and Casavir took the liberty of pouring for them both. She finished her chowder and took a sip of the wine while he still picked at his grimly then turned to the artichokes and bread, which seemed to be more to his liking. She had heard somewhere that artichokes and garlic, like the oysters in the chowder, were reputed to increase a man's passion, but she decided to keep that to herself. She speared one of the artichokes and took a bite as she watched him eat. "What's wrong? Don't you like it?"

He shrugged and looked down. "It doesn't matter." He attacked the bowl as grimly and methodically as if he was fighting a squad of undead as she ate a few more artichokes.

She frowned as she watched him then replied, "Why on Toril would you say that? Of course it matters. You don't have to eat something if you don't like it, or you could slip it to Cill when no one is lookin'." Then it occurred to her that he must have been raised in the orphanage to eat whatever was put before him without complaint, and likely punished when he didn't. She took his free hand again. "I understand. The artichokes have too much butter in the sauce for my liking." She sighed wistfully. "I miss bein' out on the trail and livin' simply on whatever I find or catch sometimes. When I was a girl Daeghun had bowls of fruit and vegetables and nuts on hand most of the time, and fish and game when he caught it. We simply ate a bit of somethin' whenever we felt hunger. There were no set meals. Breakfast could be as simple as an apple or a carrot. It wasn't until he would leave me with the Starlings that I learned that the other villagers sat down to regular meals with bread and cooked most of their food, and Rhetta's hand to my backside taught me it was rude not to eat what was set before me. Still, we're not guests at someone's house, we're payin' customers, so you don't have to eat it."

He shrugged defensively and looked down at his bowl again. "I don't want to give Sal more work on my account when he's so busy. I understand what you mean. There is something very...pure about living off the land. That's one thing I miss about my time at Old Owl Well. As for the chowder," He struggled to find something to say. "It's very...filling and no doubt nourishing, and that's all that matters."

She shook her head and said emphatically, "No, it _does_ matter, Cas." She thought, "You matter, whether you believe it or not." She smiled warmly at him and asked, "So tell me, what do you like, just so I know?"

He thought about it for a moment. "I like simple food, roasted meat or fish, and roasted potatoes. I don't care for soups, though they're effective for stretching a small amount of food to feed many...However, I don't mind a good venison or beef stew as long as the vegetables are not too mushy, and I like a kidney pie." He grimaced and flushed, and she realized how difficult it was for him to admit that much, and she smiled and squeezed his hand to encourage him to continue. "All right, what else? Let's see...I quite enjoyed that delicious apple tart your friend's mother made that we had for breakfast in West Harbor. I...wished at the time there was more of it, and I was glad you refused a piece and gave me yours. That was selfish of me, I know."

She gave his forearm an affectionate pat. "Gods, I was so queasy that morning. After the night before, more of Rhetta's tart was the last thing I wanted. Cas, don't be so hard on yourself. There's not a thing wrong with wantin' more of somethin' you like or turning down somethin' you don't. I loathe rutabagas and turnips, and look, I didn't eat them, see?" She neatly dumped the rest of her chowder into Cill's bucket all the while whistling innocently. "See how easy that was?" She leaned in to give him another kiss on the cheek just as he turned to face her, so she ended up finding his lips instead. He returned the kiss gently, holding her as if he was still afraid she would break if he touched her too hard. "Mmm, is that dessert?" she asked coyly before she kissed him again.

He flushed and glanced around. "We are not alone, m'lady."

She sat back and looked at him with her arms folded across her chest. "No, we're not. Now see, that's another thing. I don't mind public displays of affection, within reason. Daeghun said once I take after my mother that way. However, I'll compromise and restrain myself from testin' the strength of your tongue until we're alone tonight." She chuckled at his gasp. Grobnar began playing a lively tune, and Dee spun to face the gnome. "_Chasin' the Butterfly_! Ooh, I haven't danced that since the last Harvest Fair."

He made to stand with a grim expression like he'd rather be back at Old Owl Well about now and asked nervously, "Would you like to dance?"

She chuckled as Neeshka and Shandra made their way to the center of the room. "You're safe for now, my dear. 'Tis a women's dance." She watched them dance joined by one of the 'Cloaks, Shandra taking the lead as the 'butterfly' as the other two followed, trying to imitate her steps. After a few moments of watching, Dee jumped to her feet and with a few skips and kicks joined the chase while Casavir watched and then clapped in time with the other spectators.

Grobnar ended the song and signaled Sal for a refill of his drink, and Dee, flushed with the exertion, rejoined Casavir and took his hand. "I asked Grobby for a bransle next, if you're up for it. They're not refined like an alman or a pavan, but they're a lot more fun," she said with a grin as she pulled him to her. "Don't worry, Grobby'll walk us through the steps first."

His blue eyes twinkled merrily as he smiled at her. "Truthfully? I would much rather watch you dance all evening. However, I'll give it a go and will try not to mash your feet too badly, m'lady. Might I suggest _Heart's Ease_? It is a lovely pavan, and I should also like to ask Grobnar to play it since it's the only one I know. But we shall need another couple." He kissed her hand and let him lead her to the center of the room and the dancers formed a circle, holding hands and waiting for the music to start. Thinking back to the few sessions with the dance master Sir Grayson made her and his other squires attend, she wasn't altogether sure _Heart's Ease_ was a pavan, but she wasn't going to argue.

She raised an eyebrow at him. "I thought you said you didn't dance."

He chuckled nervously. "I don't, or haven't since I was a young man, but I have watched when I was on guard duty at a few functions at court. I understand the steps."

"And I don't doubt you always wanted to join in," she thought wistfully.

They danced the _Rufty Tufty_ and then the rowdy _Gathering Peascods_ (which left him flustered in the third verse when he had to put his hands on her hips, lift her, and swing her from his left side to his right). Casavir caught on quickly and only stepped on her feet twice. After a break to catch their breaths and quench their thirst, they ended with _Heart's Ease_, with Sir Nevalle and Torio joining them. Dee gained a new appreciation for the flirtatiousness of the stately dance as they held hands and took a few forward steps, circled around one another, then stepped back, gazing into each other's eyes, and even when they faced the other couple and crossed diagonally to change partners, they found themselves watching one another over their partners' heads. She thought it would be quite a sight to see a ballroom full of people dancing in their best formal garb.

As the last few notes of the song played they bowed to one another, and he took her hand and led her back to the table. He said reluctantly, "It's been a truly delightful evening, but we have a long ride ahead of us. We should get to bed soon."

She smiled at his blush as he realized what he said and fought the impulse to reply, "I thought you'd never ask!" Instead she casually finished the last of her wine and pretended she hadn't heard the unintended innuendo. "You're right. These boots aren't quite broken in yet and I can't wait to get 'em off, and I'm startin' to feel that training session this afternoon. One of the new recruits—one of the Harbor boys—got around my defenses and hit me so hard on my shoulder that my left arm went numb and I dropped my short sword. It's starting to smart." She grimaced as she rubbed it. " I'm lucky it was only a practice weapon or I would've been disarmed. Shall we go?" She let him fasten her cloak and helped him with his.

He sighed softly in relief believing she hadn't observed his blunder. As he offered her his arm he grinned at her and said, "Disarmed, eh? I should look at your shoulder and make sure the bone wasn't chipped then heal it." He held the door for her and Cillian to pass. "I heard of a man once who took such a blow with a hammer, and the chipped bone became festered. They had to cut off his left arm at the shoulder, and what was worse, he had previously lost his left leg."

She turned to face him looking horrified as they walked up the path and said, "Poor man, how awful," when she saw that twinkle in his eye and his sly grin, and she knew she was being had.

He barely kept a straight face as he nudged her with his elbow and replied, "Don't fret, m'lady. He's all _right_ now."

She stopped and stared at him open mouthed as the jest sunk in, then she elbowed him sharply in the side and chuckled. "Gods, Cas, that was so bad!"

He grunted then chuckled and replied, "Yes it was. It's entirely your fault, you know. You started it, and you bring it out in me." He boldly pulled her to him in the shadow of the smithy and gave her a kiss that she happily returned even as she wondered how different he might have been if not for the tragedy of his young life.

Cillian chuffed at them, tired, grumpy, and ready to get back to their den to sleep already. He would never figure out these strange mating rituals of the two leggeds.

Casavir walked her to her door where she put her arms around his neck and gave him a kiss and murmured "I had a lovely time tonight." She was sure Neeshka and Shandra, and probably Sand too, were somewhere nearby wasting a perfectly good _Invisibility_ potion or scroll. Little did she know they were instead at that moment sitting at a table in one of the private dining rooms in Maisie Jon's place gathered closely around Sand, who was making an entirely inappropriate use of a scrying spell. She glanced at the guard down the hall and whispered, "Would you like to meet me in the solar after I get these boots off? We could have some privacy, and Selune is in her glory tonight."

She entered her room and immediately pulled off her boots sighing in relief before she removed her bodice and sighed again. She decided Mrs. Fairfax fixed her bodice too well, but at least she had some cleavage. She held up the nightgown laid out for her as Cillian made himself comfortable before the fire. But she rejected the nightgown thinking that would put too much pressure on him and she needed him to relax, so she lay it back across the chair. She put on her slippers, lit a lantern and untied the ribbon at the neck of her shirt. That would allow him to examine her shoulder without exposing too much, but she shivered in anticipation at the thought of his hands touching her bare skin. She pulled a light blanket around her shoulders against the cold and stepped out on the balcony and into the solar and had just enough time to arrange the light and the cushions on the divan before he hesitantly opened the door, peered inside, and stepped in. He had dressed for bed, donning a dove gray robe over his simple light gray flannel nightshirt, and she regretted now not getting ready for bed too. He beamed as he saw her there and tripped over the threshold.

You must like gray," she said, smiling at him and offering him a hand up.

He looked perplexed at his robe as if he just became aware of its color, as if he had previously been unaware that such a thing as color existed. "I suppose ...I certainly look like I must. I've never much thought about it, but I do find myself buying gray clothing. It's a...practical color."

"Practical yes, but do you _like_ it? What's your favorite color?," she inquired as she patted the divan for him to sit beside her. "Come, let's sit here and you can look at my shoulder in the light."

He had to think about it for a moment before he replied, "I think...I like dark greens best, and the purple and blue of our Lord of course." There was something heartbreaking about the way he had to give it some thought, as if he had been denied even this small sense of self. She had seen the orphans at the temple dressed in their plain gray smocks, and she suddenly felt like crying. She shook it off but resolved then and there that she wanted to spend some time with him in the city discovering which things, large or small, gave him pleasure.

She slipped the sleeve off her shoulder and turned into the light so he could examine the ugly purple bruise. "Dark green...that would suit you too, not that you aren't handsome in gray or black, or Tyr's colors either. We'll have to find you a green doublet in the city."

She closed her eyes as he chanted softly and lay his hand on her shoulder and watched as the purple receded. Then he frowned as he probed the bone to make sure it was sound. "That was quite a blow, Dee."

She chuckled. "Yes, it was. That's what I get for playing 'King of the Mountain' with the new recruits and givin' them all a chance to whack the Captain. I 'killed' him with my long sword though. I think he'll make sergeant soon, and he's a natural for a hammer, so you should practice with him." She shivered at the feeling of his fingers on her skin and and his warm breath on her neck, and she could sense his lips before she felt them lightly brush against her cheek. She opened her eyes as he sat back beside her.

He smiled at her. "Yes, I would probably promote him too. The leader of your militia obviously took training very seriously." He murmured, "Are your feet still sore? I owe you a foot rub at the very least for the injury I've done to them this eve."

She grinned happily and said, "I don't have to be asked twice," and turned around stretching out on the divan and placing her feet across his thighs. Closing her eyes, she gave herself over to the sensation, shivering, arching her back and moaning softly with pleasure as he gently massaged first one then the other with his strong, calloused hands. What made it more delicious was the certainty that he was doing this strictly for her benefit without expecting anything in return and certainly not as a prelude to getting her into bed, though it was having that unintended effect anyway. She opened her eyes and said breathlessly as she gazed into his, "Thank you, my dear. How ever shall I repay you?"

Before he could speak she scooted in close beside him and kissed him on the lips, slipping her hand around to the back of his head to hold him close, placing the other hand on his chest over his pounding heart where she could feel the soft hair peeking out at his neck opening. He put his arms around her and returned the kiss then took her face in his hands and kissed her all over it worshipfully before returning to her lips again and again. She gently pressed her tongue against his lips to let him know they could go further. He tensed for a moment before he allowed her to deepen the kiss and returned it.

She ran her fingers through his coal black hair and struggled with an urgency get closer to him, to slip onto his lap or lean back and pull him down with her so that she could feel his weight upon her. But as passionately as he kissed her he still seemed as if he was struggling, his paladin side wrestling with his natural male instincts. He held her, one hand having moved down her back and kneading her hip where his thumb had found the skin under her shirt, but the other on flat against her shoulder as if he was trying to push her away. So she broke away and murmured, "Let's get some air. I think we're both gettin' rather heated, and I know how painful that is for a man if 'tis not relieved."

He look conflicted, profoundly relieved but disappointed at the same time, and he put his arm around her as she snuggled against him, slipping her arm around his narrow waist. There was something about her that invited frankness, so he answered her frankly. "It can be... uncomfortable depending on what one is wearing, but itcertainly isn't painful. Whoever told you that? Never mind, I know." It seemed perfectly in character that the ranger would take advantage of a woman's compassion and lack of experience to satisfy his own carnal desires.

As if she could read his thoughts, she said defensively for Bishop's sake but also for her own, "Wasn't just him. My boyfriend back in West Harbor used to say the same thing all the time, not that it got him farther than a few...caresses. He used to say I was evil for not givin' in and makin' him suffer." The temptation was there to ask him about his experience, or lack thereof, and she was troubled by the thought that he might see her as tainted because of her affair with Bishop. She tried to put that out of her mind; that was a discussion for another day, but at the same time she knew she couldn't put if off for long. If her past was to be an impediment to their happiness, it was better to find that out now.

She said earnestly as she gazed into his eyes, "I've only been with Bishop. But I messed around with Wyl some too..." As an afterthought she added, "Oh and I also kissed my friend Bevil when I was twelve, but it was just a couple of kisses, and I used to have the worst crush on Marshall Cormick when I was a girl. There hasn't been anyone else." He put his arm around her shoulder and held her close. She looked into his eyes and decided to go on boldly, get it all out in the open. "And what's more Cas, I liked it...and..." She had gone this far; there was no turning back. "Bish used to call me a lusty wench, and 'tis true. I like it. I don't believe those stories about paladins and sheets with holes cut in them, but I wouldn't be happy if..._it_...'twas for procreation only. I don't plan to procreate anytime soon." She watched his face nervously for his reaction.

He groaned and leaning forward, put his face in his hands and shook his head muttering, "That's the Ilmaterans, not Tyrrans. Why do people always get us confused or assume we're all like that?" He sat back and put his arm around her pulling her close again and hugged her to him. "Besides, if you think about it, that sheet with a hole sounds like it could cause chafing, not that an Ilmateran would mind that I suppose." She lay her head on his chest listening to his deep baritone as he stroked her hair. "Your past doesn't matter to me, Dee. I know Bishop was your first. Truth be told, he made a point of rubbing it in when you weren't with him trying to provoke me. I told him before and I meant it—he's a damned fool."

She looked up at him again and smiled sweetly. "That's good to hear. I was afraid of what you would think of me."

He silently caressed her hair for a few moments before he swallowed nervously and said, "I wouldn't blame you if you hated me, but ...as long as we're being honest..."


	23. All in the Family

Chapter 23: All in the Family

Usual disclaimers: Most of the characters are owned by Obsidian and a lot of other people and not me, except for a bear-lovin' ranger and an occasional NPC. Warning, lots of fluff and a bit of "M" language ahead.

Casavir caressed her short moonlit hair as he searched her eyes for a few quiet moments. He swallowed nervously and said, "I wouldn't blame you if you hated me when you hear what I have to say, but ...as long as we're being honest about our pasts..." He released her and sat forward as he struggled to find the words.

Dee answered him with a most unladylike snort and bit back a mild blasphemy. "Hate you? There's nothing you could tell me that would alter my opinion of you, Cas." She leaned forward and gave him a fierce kiss to emphasize her resolve. "I won't believe you kick puppies and steal sweets from babes. You are good, and generous, and kind, and faithful, and I will keep telling you this until you believe it because otherwise, you prove me a liar."

He grimaced. "You make me sound like a dog."

She scowled and folded her arms across her chest. "Cas, you know what I mean."

He watched her quietly for a few moments during which he looked as if he was summoning the courage to go on, and then she stuck out her tongue at him. "Very well then. Several years ago, this was back before I went to Old Owl Well, right before the war, and before Tyr called me to service as his paladin, there was a woman with whom I was...intimate; her given name was Hulda, though at the time she was going by Little Ophala, and soon after she changed it again to Opal because the real Ophala objected. Anyway, she was from my village, another survivor of the pestilence, the sweating sickness."

He closed his eyes and took a few breaths to compose himself before he continued. "We hadn't been friends as children, though my older brothers were counted among the throng of admirers that followed in her wake. She was a pretty, lively girl, a few years older than me, and always the center of attention, while I was a quiet boy and usually had my nose stuck in a book when I wasn't clinging to my mother's skirts or helping my father in his studio."

Dee nodded to encourage him to go on while she poured him a goblet of wine from a decanter next to the divan and handed it to him. He drained it and handed it back to her, and she took his hand in hers and snuggled close as she listened. "Thank you, my lady...Dee. I hadn't seen her for years obviously; she was from a life I had tried to forget. I ran into her—literally—one day at the farmer's market while I was helping the temple's cook with the shopping. She recognized me at once despite the years that had passed since we had last seen each other and greeted me like a long-lost friend, though she couldn't remember my name. She told me all about herself as I juggled the cook's baskets and made me promise to meet her the next day at the festhall where she worked. She said she was a dancer and had aspirations to join an acting company and tour the Sword Coast, though she had other aspirations which I would discover later...I met her as we agreed at highsun that next day, and the day after I came to watch her dance, and after she finished we would talk, though it was always more her talking than me. One thing led to another."

He looked away, flushing deeply. "Within a tenday she invited me to her bed. My aunt Griselda, who had raised me after my family's death, told me I had to strive to control a man's filthy urges after she caught me kissing the scullery lass when I was fifteen. I was suitably chastened, unable to bear the look of disappointment on her face after all she, a poor spinster, had done for me. Thus I hadn't even kissed a woman afterwards much less..." He flushed with guilt.

Dee squeezed his hand and said softly, "That's the way it's supposed to go between a man and a woman, since the beginnin' of time, and there's not a thing wrong with it unless you had taken a vow of celibacy. Not to go against your aunt's admonition, but there's nothin' filthy about it either. It can be a loving and even spiritual act." Maisie Jons had said that one day while they examined the site of the festhall, and it stuck with Dee. She wasn't sure if she agreed with all of Sharess's tenets, but she could see the truth that the act could be deeply spiritual. "That seems a rather harsh judgment for a kiss anyway, even from a spinster."

He ran his hands through his hair and gazed at her with that same earnest look. "It was a rather...passionate kiss. She had my shirt off...and had opened my trewes. I had pushed her skirt up over her hips when my aunt walked in on us, and I think you can imagine where her hand was. The poor woman nearly fainted and dropped the tea tray she was carrying."

Dee stifled a chuckle at the mental image of the old spinster walking in on two teens in heat. He raised an eyebrow at her, but she had successfully covered the chuckle with a cough. "No, I hadn't taken that vow, though there are constraints upon us. It is allowed to have a...liaison with others of our faith, usually members of the clergy or fellow paladins, for mutual benefit. Indeed, there are rooms set aside for such at most of the larger temples. Nonetheless, I had been chaste. It wasn't a tryst as far as I was concerned. I suppose in retrospect I was lonelier than I realized at the temple with my aunt gone. My aunt was able to persuade my grandfather, her brother, to pay for my tuition at the temple college even though he had cut my father out of his will and out of his life, and I had devoted myself to my studies. I had friends—I was captain of the hurley team, after all—but it wasn't the same. I think in truth I fell in love with what Opal stood for, the link to my childhood, as much as I did with her. We were so different when I think back on it, and we had almost nothing in common except our past."

She murmured words of comfort. "Your intent is what matters then, my dear. Tyr sees your heart and knows the truth of your motives."

He gave her a stricken look like she had just declared his greatest fear and continued, "I tried to be with her whenever I could, three or four times a tenday, but I feared that I was neglecting my studies. There were signs I should have seen—her insistence that I didn't just drop in when I got time away from the temple for one. I had studied Canon Law at the temple college but also had a mind to enter the clergy before Tyr called me to serve as his paladin during the war. Because of my training I was assigned to assist one of the justicars who advised the Council. Yet I was becoming disillusioned by my excursions into the snake pit of Neverwintan politics, and she encouraged me to vent my frustration. She was the only one with whom I could share my feelings of discontent. I asked her to marry me more than once, but she would only laugh and say we were too young to get married and that we had plenty of time."

"And you believed her. Why wouldn't you." Dee took the blanket and draped it around both their shoulders and poured another goblet of wine for them to share, handing it to him first then taking a drink herself.

He sighed deeply. "Honestly Dee, I had no reason not to. Despite what you might have heard, we don't have an innate ability to detect untruth. It's an active rather than passive ability, and as I said, I had no reason not to trust her. We had only been lovers for a short time, not even two months, when I found her in tears in her room one night along with Mordren, a man that she had previously introduced to me as her cousin. I begged her to tell me what was the matter. She said through her tears that she had been threatened by a man, whom she claimed was an admirer who had a dangerous obsession with her. She said she was afraid he would do harm to her because of his obsession. It just so happened a year prior that a festhall courtesan had her face viciously slashed by a jealous client."

Dee gasped, "Oh how awful! The poor woman!"

Casavir took a drink and handed the goblet back to her, and Dee refilled the goblet. "Yes, it is terrible what people will do out of what they perceive as feelings of love. It was quite a scandal with many believing the man avoided gaol because of his connections to one of the best families in the city. I admit that was still fresh in my mind, and no doubt hers as well. I insisted she tell me who the man was, and she gave me a name—Harcus Pierval, and her cousin confirmed this and told me where I could find him. I sought this Harcus out at once that night at a tavern he frequented and I confronted him while he was playing Knaves...he didn't even look up at me, just played his hand and then said some absolutely vile things about her that drove me into a rage! I struck him across the face and demanded he take them back."

He paused and wiped at his eyes. "Harcus drew his sword and demanded satisfaction. As I said, I was considering joining the clergy, so I had trained primarily with a war hammer, the favored weapon of Tyr's priests. I had little experience using a sword other than some lessons with a fencing student my aunt had paid for. I told him I was unarmed. One of his friends tossed me a blade, and I was forced to fight him. I didn't mean to kill him, and he could have easily killed me truth be told, but he was toying with me for sport. But then he must have slipped on something on the floor and fell on my sword...that was the first time I killed, and I'll never forget his eyes as the life departed from them."

He shuddered and trailed off folding his arms across his chest then said bitterly, "I was sick about what I had done, but I thought it was justified if it was to protect her. I went to her straight away and told her what had happened once the Watch had taken their report. However, her reaction wasn't at all what I expected. She was eerily calm and assured me that she had no doubt I was forced to kill him and that I shouldn't trouble myself on his account. I assumed she was in shock. She asked me to leave her as the hour was late. I instead took her in my arms and insisted again that she marry me. I pointed out marriage would not only be a deterrent to suitors, but she would also have protections under the law against men like Harcus Pierval that an unattached woman didn't have. I sought to overcome her objections by telling her I wouldn't expect her to give up her dancing. I understood how much she loved the stage. I insisted we be married the next morning and told her I wouldn't take no for an answer."

"Yet she refused to marry you." Dee knew the type and had a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach as she sensed what he would say next.

He put his face in his hands and shook his head. "She pushed me away and laughed at me! How did she put it? She said I was a sweet fool but informed me that as I had no family, no money, no prospects, and therefore nothing of any consequence besides...my physical attributes..." He remembered angrily her exact words—"How did she put it? She said I had nothing to tempt her save a fair face, strong back and a ready cock, and that wasn't nearly enough. Mordren burst into her room just then and told her I had ruined everything, that Lord Pierval blamed her for his son's death and had banished them both from his sight. He said he was leaving the city at once and suggested she do the same. He was in such a state that he didn't notice me in the shadows."

Dee put her arms around him and murmured, "There there love, let it all out."

He still kept his arms folded across his chest but didn't resist her efforts to draw him closer. "She flew into a rage and screamed at me to get out and struck me with her fists, but I had heard enough. It was utterly humiliating to discover from her that I had been nothing more than a diversion to her while she tried to snare a wealthy husband. I learned later from Lieutenant Ballard...you remember Black Ballard whom you met at Lord Taverick's estate?" Dee nodded. "He learned during his investigation that Mordren was not only her cousin, but another of her lovers and possibility her pimp as well. I wasn't aware that she entertained customers. And do you want to know the worst part? It turned out that the man I killed was no madman but instead a loving son trying to protect his father from a scheming young woman he suspected was only after his father's money. If only he had said something to me, but then again, would I have listened if he had? I think not."

He wiped his sleeve across his face and took another drink. "I stormed out of there before I did something else I would regret, turned myself in to the Watch, and informed them all the sordid details. But Lord Pierval didn't want the matter made into a public scandal, and I respected his wishes. It seems Mordren had gone and told him the reverse of the story that she told me, that I was the one with the mad obsession and I had killed Harcus for defending her, but Lieutenant Ballard had already told him the truth when they took his son's body home. Indeed, he was the one who thrust the sword into my hands. He shared my feeling of guilt for goading us to fight, and he swore to me he would investigate the matter. Enough of the story got out anyway, though it was twisted in the telling, like most gossip. Lord Pierval's solicitor informed her employer, and she was discharged as well. She left the city for a time, though I've seen her a few times from a distance in the street after the war. I'm just thankful my aunt wasn't here to see my fall."

Dee stroked his raven-black hair. "No wonder you're so reluctant to trust your heart to another. You couldn't have fallen far if your god didn't turn from you, Cas, and he must have forgiven you if he called you to his service." Dee felt a sick certainty that the woman hadn't just used him to satisfy her lust, but also had seduced and entrapped him to remove the inconvenient son of her intended victim, but she kept that to herself rather than rub salt in the reopened wound.

He lay his head upon her shoulder. "No, I sought spiritual counsel in which I was advised by the Prior to devote myself to service, working amongst the poorest citizens of the _Docks District._ As I said, that was mere tendays before the first outbreak of the Wailing Death. There was so much misery with that and then the war that I was able to work myself to exhaustion every day. It was during the war that Tyr called me. I tried sincerely to forgive myself for what I had done, but as hard as I worked, I still felt tainted. In addition, I was still frustrated with the politics of the city government and of my order after the war...Trying to get Neverwinter to act on the suffering of the people inside and outside of the city was beyond me, and too many of my order were unwilling to go against the city fathers. Finally I turned away from my vows and left the city, and eventually found myself at Old Owl Well, where I saw I could make a difference, or die trying."

The anger, shame, and bitterness played across his features. Dee exclaimed as she wiped away a few tears, "Oh Cas, how terrible to use anyone that way! You were most cruelly deceived, and you must forgive yourself for what wasn't your fault! You don't have to go on if 'tis too painful to talk about."

He nodded and said tersely, "Perhaps another time." He took her face in his hands again and looked into her eyes searchingly. "And now that you've heard my sordid story...most women would walk away quickly and not look back."

She took his face in her hands and kissed him softly on the lips. "I have a better understanding of your fears. Some women would indeed run away screaming, but I think you're worth the effort." She poured them another drink and handed it to him. "But Cas...I don't want to pry into your past to dig up more painful memories, but what became of the scullery maid, the one you were caught with? Have you seen her since, and do you still have feelings for her?"

"Bettie? I was but fifteen and she was only seventeen. I don't think I was old enough to have real feelings anywhere but in my...My aunt was going to sack her, but I talked her out of it with the assurance from both of us we would end our dalliance. I was due to start the college shortly and would be moving into the temple dormitory. Bettie married a cooper a few months later and has given him six healthy children. I have kept in touch with them. In fact, I'm the godfather of the third boy and got him enrolled in the temple school. I can take you to meet them, if you wish."

She smiled at him and put her arms around him. "You're full of surprises, my dear. I would like that, yes." There was so much she was learning about this man that she struggled to take it all in.

He drew her into a soft kiss then took his arm from around her and sat forward, stifling a yawn and saying with a regretful sigh, "We really should get to our beds soon." He chose his words carefully to avoid further embarrassment to them both.

She sighed softly unwilling to leave him while she was unsure he wouldn't slip back into a dark mood. "I know, though we have a little time yet, and besides, look, Selune's just overhead and that meteor shower Aldanon predicted for tonight is starting soon." She gestured towards moonlit sky. "'And forgive me, but I don't want to leave you alone now." He grunted at that, and she poured him another goblet. '"Tis not like we're settin' out at first light. I've already packed. I told Kana I planned to sleep in for once, and I'm tired enough the dreams won't come to haunt my sleep. Cill won't mind sleepin' in either. He's fightin' all his natural instincts just staying awake to be with me."

He chuckled softly as he listened to her prattle on and put his arm back around her. "Very well, my lady, for the bear's sake." He kissed the top of her head then leaned back to watch the moon. She drew her legs up and readjusted the blanket, and he put his arm around her waist and watched the sky show quietly with her.

After a while he broke the silence. "Your dreams—that one you had last night? You say you have dreams that haunt you, as you put it?"

She stiffened, caught her breath, and looked at the floor as she changed the subject away from her lie to a different truth. "All the time. I had the one about the falling rocks again too the night before last. Sand and Elanee agree 'tis simply my anxiety about us prowling around those old Illefarn ruins."

"Falling rocks? Again? It's a reoccurring dream then?" He turned his head and looked at her with concern.

She shrugged indifferently and poured them another goblet of wine. "A few times, yeah. The first few times was after we got Shandra back from the Githyanki. Bishop used to get mad when I woke him up, but it wasn't like he didn't wake up screamin' from his own nightmares often enough, and he never would tell me what they were about. I had it a couple of times since we retook the Keep, then again two days ago."

He looked back at the moon as a brilliant spark corkscrewed out of Selune's Tears and replied, "Have you considered the possibility that they're prophetic and that Tyr or Mielikki is trying to send you a warning? Perhaps we should consult the Prior about them before we explore the ruins."

She said dismissively with more bravado than she felt, "Fate would be a really evil bitch to stick me with this shard and groom me all my life to fight an ancient evil just to let me be killed in a collapsing ruin before the big fight is engaged, don't you think?" She tried unsuccessfully to suppress a shudder. "No, Sand is right, and 'tis nothin' but anxiety. He called me umm, what's the word, claustrophobic. That means I don't like bein' closed in."

He chuckled and ruffled her hair. "Yes, I know what it means."

She stuck out her tongue at him and shrugged. "Well I didn't. I didn't have any trouble in the orc lair or those Ironfist ruins though. But sometimes I have such a feeling of foreboding when I think about this journey, it's like someone's walkin' across my grave." She shuddered and leaned close to him.

He gave her a squeeze and kissed her forehead and changed the subject as she did so often for him. "I was thinking too about that other one you told me about. The one that's not too erotic?"

Even without looking at him she could feel the heat of his blush, and she blushed in return. "Yeah. Those. I'll whisper the other ones in your ear some other time. No, I don't think I have the gift, but if they're prophetic, mayhap that means we're meant to survive, and survive well."

He grinned and replied softly, almost in a teasing whisper, "So bad you have to whisper them? I admit, I'm intrigued. The reason I brought it up...I told you my mother was fair like you while I favored my father. But my second oldest brother Derivir had bright red hair such as you described on the child in the dream, as did my Aunt Griselda in a portrait that was painted when she was young." He shuddered, overcome by the painful memories. Eventually he sat back and whispered, "Forgive me. Are all first dates so cathartic?"

She kissed his forehead and whispered back, "Hush, there's nothing to forgive."

There was no more talk of the need of getting to bed. He put his arm around her shoulder again, she slipped hers around his waist, and they sat entwined sipping the wine and watching the moon silent other than gasping and pointing at the meteors. They took comfort in one another's presence, and without realizing it, they both drifted off into a deep, restful, dreamless sleep, the best either of them had felt in days.

Dee awoke as the sun's rays streamed into the room and moved to stretch the stiffness from sleeping on the divan from her limbs. She became aware of Casavir still there there behind her spooning with her, his left arm draped over her. It took her only a heartbeat longer for her to become aware of his left hand cupping her left breast and his thumb stroking her nipple, which while pleasant, caused her to awaken in the first place. Then she became aware of him pressing against her hip and she chuckled softly, thinking, "Not bad at all, feels like he must be what Neesh calls a 'grower.'" Her movement caused him to stir, and he murmured something that sounded like "sleep a bit longer" before he jerked awake and pulled away from her with a gasp. She turned over and smiled at him and murmured, "Must've been the wine. I don't even recall going to sleep."

He disentangled himself from her and began stammering apologies as he sat up tying his robe and trying to cover himself. "Forgive me, my lady."

She sat up and and stretched and regarded him with a bemused smile. "Forgive you for what? I should thank you. I didn't dream at all last night! Must be that paladin aura."

"But your reputation! What will people say when they learn we slept together, and all for naught?" He stood and stepped towards his door.

She snorted as she stood and folded the blanket and out of habit, he came back and helped her with it. "Half the people here think we're already lovers, and the other half wish we were as they're of an opinion that getting laid would help remove the sticks they think are lodged up our backsides. Nothing happened, and if it had, it would be no one's concern but ours anyway. Now come on, let's go to breakfast so we can get on the road. Cill's scratchin' at the door to go out. I've got to figure a way to make him a bear door off the balcony or somethin.'" She lay the folded blanket down and turned to look at him over her shoulder as he again turned towards his own room. "You could at least give me a kiss."

He sighed turned back, took her in his arms and gave her a soft but still hesitant kiss. "Very well, my lady. I am pleased at least that my presence kept your dreams at bay. You best go tend to your bear now before he removes the varnish from the door."

They arrived in the city late in the afternoon of the next day and stopped at The Sunken Flagon first thing. Duncan grabbed Dee in a bear hug as soon as she stepped through the door and assaulted her with a barrage of questions. "There's my favorite niece! When did you arrive? Gods, you're a sight for sore eyes! Aren't they feedin' you? How long are you staying? How's Sal doin'? Has Qara burned down the Keep yet? Your old room can become available, if you want to wait a bit for me to have the lass change the sheets. I'll get it ready after you eat."

She cast a sidelong glance at Casavir standing just behind her. "That's alright, Uncle. I'm not particular, and I'd rather have a different view anyway."

To his credit Duncan didn't react at all to the look that passed between them but told him all he needed to know about the change in their relationship. "Sure, lass, Room 4 is open." That one not only had a bed wide enough for two, but the bed was long enough to accommodate two tall occupants. But Casavir looked down and made the excuse he business to attend to at the temple and would be staying there. Shandra rolled her eyes as she came up beside Cillian. Duncan could have kicked him for the look of disappointment that flashed across Dee's face, but he merely shrugged and said flatly, "Your room's waitin' here if you change your mind, lad."

Dee left Cillian in her room and walked with Casavir as far as the temple, neither speaking much along the way. He sighed thinking that he had offended her, and he longed for her chatter on as she did about anything to ease the silence. Finally he could stand it no longer. He turned to her at the entrance to the temple courtyard, took her by the shoulders, and gave her a kiss on the forehead. "It's better this way, whether you believe me or not. I don't think I could even trust myself to give you another innocent foot rub without ending it in your bed." She merely shrugged at him and pulled away. He caught her hand and smiled sweetly at her. "I'll see you in the morning, and don't forget I've promised to go shopping with you after temple." He gave her a quick, chaste kiss on the lips.

She looked away at the peal of bells from Castle Never. "I have to move if I'm gonna make the last session." She sprinted off then froze in her tracks and turned to see him still standing there watching her. She ran back and gave him a kiss on the cheek and whispered, "Until tomorrow then."

She made it just in time for the afternoon session of Court to give Lord Nasher a report on her progress at the Keep, then reported her progress to Sir Grayson at his manor, who ran his fingers through her hair, tsked, and insisted she see his barber at once where after a few minutes hesitation, she asked for a man's short cut. She longed to drop in on Lord Taverick on her way and inquire how much he wanted for the painting, but thought better of it. Instead she knocked at the door and presented one of the calling cards Sir Grayson had made up for his squires to use and asked his butler if she might be allowed to call on Lord Taverick on the morrow, making a mental note to bring along Shandra and Maisie Jons in one of her low-cut gowns. She dropped by the Watch headquarters to see Cormick, who finally seemed to be on the mend, filled him in on the West Harbor gossip, and gave him a progress report as well to be spread on the Harper network. With that finished, she resisted the urge to go by the temple and instead jogged back to the tavern and took advantage of the bright moonlight to take Cill down to play in the water by the dock while she answered her uncle's questions.

Casavir left his room at the temple the next morning and asked if he might have an audience with the Prior, but he was out investigating a reported breakout of the Blue Pox on a merchant ship that had been quarantined in the harbor . With the Wailing Death so fresh in peoples' minds, it was best to take charge instantly to avert panic even if it was only Blue Pox, and he had gone as soon as the outbreak was reported. Casavir was torn, pleased that things were moving along so well with Dee, but still struggling with his fear that things were moving too fast. Judge Oleff came up behind Casavir in the foyer as he talked to the Prior's secretary and hailed him. "Casavir! Come in to my office, lad. I can hear your confession or give you advice as well as the good Prior." He took his hand and led Casavir to his office.

Casavir agreed, albeit reluctantly. It was no small thing to be granted an audience with the High Justicar, let alone have him hear his confession. After exchanging formalities and making small talk over coffee and cinnamon rolls, Casavir let the story of his growing relationship with Dee unfold. He was the High Justicar, but Oleff had such a kindly, benign expression he felt he could tell him everything, so he told him of his past advice from the Prior and of his past failure as well as his fears that entering into another relationship might make him stumble again. His greatest fear was that he would fall utterly if it happened again. He put his face in his hands. "Can you see my dilemma, your honor? I have strong feelings for her, and I feel our Lord has called me to stand beside her in her fight with the King of Shadows, but what use will I be to her if I fail her by falling from grace because I can't control my urges?"

Oleff shook his head firmly. "My son, first of all I advise you to compare this young woman to the woman who led you astray. She is very different, is she not? And you said she shares your feelings?" Casavir nodded his agreement. "Think of it this way. If you fear she will cause your fall, aren't you equating her with that other woman, and by extension, saying you feel all women are alike and not to be trusted? Is that what you believe?"

Casavir sat back with his chin in his hand and considered this. "I hadn't looked at it that way. No, I don't believe that at all. It's not so much that I don't trust her as I don't trust myself, I suppose. I must confess I was even beginning to eroticize the scourging. Instead of relieving my urges, it was making them worse. I also find myself rushing to protect her in battle before any of our companions, and some of them need more protection much than she does. It also would be too easy to give in to our urges and turn what could be between us into a mere tryst. What's more, you know we don't exactly have a long life expectancy. Is it just to leave her a widow, possibly with small children to raise alone?"

Oleff leaned forward and patted him on the shoulder. "The rumors of the short life expectancy of paladins is highly exaggerated as you should realize by looking around at your brethren in the temple. My son, the best advice I could give you is not to find yourself some day as I am, old and alone. My faith is strong, I've lived a good life, but I must admit my life is rather empty at times." He sighed deeply and rubbed his bony hand across his bald head. "I've known love several times, my son, but I turned my back on it and chose my calling every time, never dreaming I could have had both until it was too late." He sat back drinking his coffee, deep in thought. "My advice? Accept the gift of a companion through your life's journey that the gods have given you. Nurture your feelings for her carefully, and they will flower beautifully." He stood and opened the door. "There's the bells. Come along, we can talk more after the service."

Dee was already sitting with a few of her squire brothers and sisters when Casavir came in the temple, smiled at her, and took his place with the other paladins and priests. After the service Dee ambled over to Oleff and greeted him with a kiss on the cheek. "It's good to speak to you in person and not only through our letters, Your Honor. I would still like to have that glass of wine with you later, if you have time."

Casavir walked up beside them, and Oleff smirked and said, "No time like the present, my child. Come along, both of you. I have a bottle I've been saving for just this occasion, and it's late enough in the day I think I can open it." Neither of them would argue with the High Justicar though it was not yet highsun. He led them to a small well-furnished sitting room in his private quarters and whispered orders to an acolyte assigned to him then motioned them to a pair of chairs opposite his.

They made perfunctory introductory small talk, and then he listened intently as she told him what she would about her dreams. "My advice? Pray about the dreams then try to write them down immediately so you don't lose any detail. My guess is they're not so much a warning as a sign that you will endure many trials but you will persevere through them in the end."

He poured them both a glass of wine as he reminisced about his time traveling with Daeghun and told her a few anecdotes about Esmerelle before he brought up the matter he called her in for. "I sent a priest and a clerk to West Harbor to certify you as Esmerelle's natural daughter. Daeghun was off in the swamp, but one of the women who was present for your birth swore to the fact and made her mark, then Daeghun arrived before they left and also signed a sworn statement. I have a letter for you they brought from him. I was going to forward it to you with my next letter. Now what did I do with it?" He got up stiffly and fumbled around in his writing desk. "That's the problem with growing old. There it is!" He handed her a piece of parchment, carefully folded and sealed with wax, which she put into her pouch to read later.

He sat back heavily and drank another glass of wine before he continued, grinning at the way they smiled at each other as they sat holding hands. "As you know, I've been working on settling Esmerelle's estate for your sake. Two of her cousins claimed some of it last year, having been twenty years since she had vanished. One of them is a young rake you would be better off not knowing who has managed to drink and gamble the bulk of what he got away already. As for the rest, she left a townhouse in the Merchant Quarter that has sat empty for years as well as some holdings near Amphail where she had more family—the Amcathras of Waterdeep."

Casavir gasped and sat forward. "Amcathra? My father was related to that family as well. One of them visited him when I was a boy, the notorious one who eloped with the Luskan pirate. That would mean...we're related!" The blood drained from his face as he turned to Dee.

Oleff chuckled and patted his arm reassuringly. "Don't worry, my son. You can trace the genealogy in the Archives, but I seriously doubt you're more than second cousins at the most. Such is often the case with noble families. As a matter of fact, Dierdre, we're also distantly related on Esmerelle's mother's side through Lord Galvaran, one of the original Nine. We're something like sixth cousins once removed." He looked back at his notes. "Now where was I? Oh yes, the estate. Esmerelle's father owned another manor house which she had let to tenants, but it was burned during the war, and obviously there's been no one to rebuild it. If I were you, I would sell the vacant land as it has an excellent view of the lake and Castle Never, and use some of the proceeds to pay the back taxes. There should be a tidy sum left over even after the tax is paid. Oh, and while I was researching any other existing portraits for you, I learned she modeled for the statue of Sune at the shrine here. You must see it before you leave."

Dee did not know that and assured him that she would indeed. She was still in awe at all the news he had to tell her. Casavir took her hand and kissed it, and she smiled and put her head on his shoulder, murmuring "second cousins..." Oleff grinned at them and stated matter-of-factly, "You two do make a handsome couple. Have you talked of marriage yet?"

Casavir flushed, looked at her then at the Justicar. "It's all so recent, not even a tenday since..."

Dee leaned forward and answered for both of them. "Aye, 'tis not even a tenday since we've discovered our feelings. We're nowhere near ready for that step. We're still getting to know one another, and I'm not one to push him to marry me just to satisfy our desires. And there's still this threat of the King of Shadows looming over us. I can see us being together, someday, once the threat is over."

Oleff reached over and patted her hand. "You are wise not to rush into marriage, but there are other options, and you'll find that 'someday' never seems to arrive if you wait for your lives to become perfect. However, there is an old ceremony called a handfasting. Are you familiar with it?"

Casavir looked intrigued. "Yes, it was originally an Dwarven ceremony, and it's used more in small villages without any regular clergy. It's a sort formal betrothal, isn't it?"

Oleff stood stiffly and pulled a book off his bookshelf and placed it on the small table in front of them. "See here. More of a trial marriage than a simple betrothal. In ancient times when it was important to have children to work in the fields, it was a way of ensuring the union was fertile before the couple entered into a binding arrangement. It was a very practical ceremony. Also if either found they weren't compatible in any way, they were free after the end of the arranged time, which by default is a year and a day, to go their separate ways with no scandal or fault to either side. My advice is that you two consider such an arrangement. I would gladly perform the ceremony myself. That way, there's no fault if you give in to your...carnal feelings for one another. Discuss it and let me know your decision. Now I'm sure you two young people have more to do today than talk about the past with an old man." He stood, took Casavir's hand, and kissed Dee on the cheek, and walked them to the door.

They walked on in silence towards the Moonstone Mask, both casting surreptitious looks at one another. He smiled at her and took her hand. "I think we should give it some thought, as long as we don't turn out to be more than second cousins."

She took his hands and turned to face him. "Even if we are, we're surely not closer than first cousins, and that's perfectly lawful, isn't it?"

He glanced about and whispered, "It's said Lord Nasher's parents were first cousins." He flushed as he realized he was spreading gossip and she chuckled. "I think you're a bad influence on me, my lady."

She leaned up and gave him a kiss. "I know you're a good influence on me. Come on, we have enough time to go to the tailor shop to get you something more colorful to wear before I have to meet Shandra."

He returned the kiss and looked around again. "I can't believe I'm doing this on the street in broad daylight." He sighed, "It doesn't matter to me if you're my first cousin or my half sister, but we will need witnesses."

She grimaced. "Half sister? Our children would have tails like Neesh's. Aye, witnesses we have plenty, though Neesh will be so disappointed she wasn't here. We have Shandra, and Duncan will be there for sure, and Sand and Khelgar."

He nodded and ruffled her hair. "It's very short, but it suits you."

"On the morrow then?" She raised an eyebrow. "Shouldn't we think about it overnight and make sure 'tis not the wine talkin'?"

He chuckled and gave her another kiss despite their being on the street in broad daylight. "We had one glass. I'm sure it's not the wine talking. Very well, let us sleep on it tonight. But not together."


	24. The Ties That Bind

Chapter 24 The Ties That Bind

Warning, rated 'M' for ranger on paladin smut (no, not _that_ ranger).

Usual Disclaimers: Most of the characters belong to Obsidian, Hasbro and a lot of other people and not me except for the occasional NPC and a bear-lovin' ranger.

They went to three tailor shops before they found an gnomish tailor equipped with some sort of gnomish sewing device who promised, as she stretched on her toes on a step ladder to measure Casavir, to have a new forest green wool doublet with silver piping ready for him the next morning (though for twice the cost for the rush). Dee looked through the stock she had on hand and the sketches of the latest styles, gasped and held one up to him. "Ooh Cas, I'd love to see you in some of these new Waterdhavian hose to show off your legs."

Casavir looked at the sketch then at her aghast. "Those are so tight they were almost indecent, and the cod piece puts so much emphasis...it's indecent for certain! I might as well wear nothing at all as walk around in those!"

She could see he was adamant though she liked the idea of seeing him walking around in nothing, so she relented and suggested some trewes in dark blue and russet. "No more gray for you, at least not for awhile, my dear" she declared firmly, grinning and kissing him on the cheek.

He scowled at her good-natured teasing but kissed her back, and she could see by his expression she touched on a sore spot. "Gray is a very practical color. It goes with everything. My aunt was once given an entire bolt of gray fustian by a woman of her acquaintance and managed to stretch it far enough to make herself a new gown and two sets of tunics and trewes for me a year for two years. All she had to buy was some thread, laces and ribbon. After awhile some of her acquaintances took to calling us 'The Grays,' but she just laughed and agreed we were rather ridiculous. After that she bought gray fustian as a point of pride. I suppose I grew accustomed to the color over time."

Dee was impressed by the image of his aunt, living in genteel poverty on a small stipend. Of course this was nothing like the poverty endured by the poorer classes―poverty for her class meant she could only afford to keep one, or at the most two servants and they ate meat only at supper. She lived on the margins and was at the mercy of the not always benevolent generosity of those of her social circle for invitations to their events. The dubious gift of a bolt of fustian, a tradesman's cloth, attested to that. Nonetheless, she took on the burden of a young boy when she might have sent him to an orphanage with a clear conscience. Dee thought that perhaps that came from being at an age when she realized she was most likely to remain a spinster and have no child of her own. She said quietly, "Your aunt sounds like she was a very resourceful woman, and I wish I could have met her. I would like to go with you to her grave while we're here. Pity there's no flowers to be had."

He gave her a confused glance as he perused some linen shirts. "Her grave? Why would you think she was dead?"

Dee blinked and replied with an embarrassed shrug. "Well, you said she was gone..."

He chuckled and ruffled her hair. "I can see why you became confused. She's very much alive, or was in the last letter I got from her. She was always very frugal and invested part of her allowance in a merchant company. She turned quite a tidy profit, so she kept investing half and saving the rest. Then she decided after I went off to college to use her savings to embark upon a tour of Cormyr with an old friend of hers. They fell in love with the canals of Marsember and found a townhouse to let there. She writes to me in care of the temple and always sends me some socks she knitted each Midwinter festival. I wrote to her when I was about to leave the city." He shrugged defensively. "I didn't want to vanish without a word and make her worry more than I know she has, though I did not tell her my reasons for leaving, just that I didn't know when I could write her again. She was frantic enough when she received news of the war. I wrote to her when we returned from Old Owl Well last year. Perhaps some day, when all this is over, we can travel there and you may meet her."

She beamed at him and kissed his cheek. "Oh, I would like that! A honeymoon trip?" She blushed that she was planning a honeymoon already and added, "If we marry, that is. Volo says the city is built on islands with bridges and the canals to connect them. Marsember's one of the places I had hoped to see before..." She frowned and shook off the thought. "Mayhap some day we can go there together when all this is finished."

He took her in his arms and gazed earnestly into her eyes. "If it's Tyr's will, I would like that very much."

After a few moments at another shop spent teasing him while perusing an assortment of small clothes and holding them up for his approval (she set aside to purchase the ones that evoked the best response―a blush, a grin, and the ones that caused him to flush crimson and hide his face in his hands but nod 'yes' for certain) she asked, "And your grandfather? Have you been reconciled to him?"

He sighed sadly. "No, nor do I expect to. My aunt used to tell me he wasn't always such a difficult man. He took his wife's death giving birth to my father hard, and it made him bitter. He sent a few letters after my aunt informed him that I made good marks in school despite, as he put it, my vulgar mother, but he was displeased that I chose to study canon law rather than mercantile law. He had a mind to bring me into his business, you see. I also suspect he is without faith, for he voiced his utter contempt towards the gods when I wrote I was considering entering the clergy. Since Tyr called me as his paladin I've heard little from him other than a demand for repayment of the cost of my education, which doesn't bother me as much as you might suppose. He's always been a stranger. I am grateful for what he's done for me, but I'm convinced there was a good reason why my father left his house without a backward glance and even abandoned his surname."

Dee drew him into a hug and kissed his cheek." I understand better than you might think. From what I've been told, there was bad blood between my mother and her parents, especially her father, bad enough that she told folks they were dead long before they were. Well, 'tis his loss that he doesn't know what a wonderful man his grandson has become."

He frowned and grunted in reply and changed the subject. "You're going to be late for your luncheon, my lady. I'll see you tonight." He kissed her forehead and took their purchases to return to the Flagon and ask Duncan, Sand, and Khelgar to be witnesses while she went to meet Shandra waiting for her with a nervous Maisie Jons at the Mask.

Ophala was very helpful with advice for starting the festhall. In addition, she introduced a couple of young entertainers she had just let go because they hadn't turned out to be up to the standards of her festhall, but whose talents would be adequate for an establishment in the country with soldiers and the odd merchant as clientèle. They thanked her and left for Lord Tavorick's estate, where wheedling the painting of Esmerelle out of the Lord over more wine was easier than Dee imagined. She didn't even have to pay him for it once he listened sympathetically to her story of losing her mother so young (she also was relieved to learn he was only an admirer of Esmerelle's beauty and not yet another lover). Of course it helped that Shandra and Maisie Jons had dressed appropriately for the occasion (Dee wondered how they breathed without spilling out of their bodices) and entertained the ancient lord by exchanging a few friendly kisses.

The afternoon passed quickly into a cold, wet Hammer evening. Everyone but Khelgar was full of questions that night, mostly about why they weren't simply getting married ('we want to be sure' wasn't a good enough answer), but Khelgar explained that handfasting was indeed an old Dwarven custom and very practical if the couple thought better of things before the year was out. Sand countered dryly that it was actually an Elven custom grown out of living a very long life with the same person and that the Dwarves then the humans had adapted the practice. Dee chuckled at their good-natured bickering as she walked away.

Maisie Jons was interviewing prospects who stood out from the usual Flagon crowd. She also agreed to hire a few street urchins that had turned up at the Flagon, having heard either that Duncan was kind and would feed them and let them sleep on a pallet in the attic in exchange for work, or that he was an easy mark. The three of Wolf's pack he had hired kept the latter away, but the former had stayed glad for a dry place to sleep and a warm bowl of food. Dee agreed not only to hire one boy, but to liberate his sisters, aged six and nine, from an orphanage he had run away from. "I'll find them somethin' to do at the Keep," she said softly. Dee and Casavir sat at the next table and listened to the interviews while they ate supper, and she interrupted to ask the odd question of the 'entertainers' and to insist that that they be of the age of consent no matter how much experience they had or how eager they were.

Afterwards they snuggled before the fire talking quietly and leaning back against Cillian, who was snoozing on the floor, until it was time to go to bed. Casavir walked them to her room, looked around, swept her into his arms and gave her a passionate kiss. He caressed her cheek and whispered, "Until tomorrow, my lady. Dee, I...want you to know I'm not doing this just so I can lie with you."

She chuckled lightly and put her arms around his neck. "You forget, you don't have to do this to lie with me, my dear. But I'll not invite you into my bed tonight as much as I liked the feeling of you lying beside me. I'll not have you in my bed again until you see it as your bed too and you come to it of your own free will." She gave him a final kiss and shut the door. She sighed and leaned against it as Cillian cocked his head at her then chuffed and stretched out on the floor. Casavir stood in the hallway watching her door for a few minutes as if he hoped that she might change her mind before he went to his own room.

The ceremony was held the next morning immediately after the temple's regular service and was over so quickly Dee stood there stunned thinking, "That was it?" Dee had been only vaguely aware of the Judge's words as he took a silken cord, wrapped it loosely around their right wrists, and tied it in a knot, though she could feel herself grinning at Casavir like an idiot try as she might to force a serious expression. Their friends stood in a circle around them with Cillian beside her. They took turns adding a knot and bore witness as the congregation that hadn't filtered out after the service looked on. Afterwards they accepted congratulations from the Prior and Sir Grayson, their companions, and several perfect strangers.

They decided to spend part of the afternoon looking for sculptures that his father had made as well as the statue of Sune that Esmerelle had posed for. Dee had surmised correctly that the city archives might yield clues to their locations. Casavir knew the location of all his father's sculptures in the Tyrran temple graveyard as well as a statue of Torm at his temple, and he fought back tears as he looked on the face of his mother in the statue of Chantea his mother had posed for. He nodded at the swollen belly. "She was carrying me when he made this one." It wasn't hard to find the statue in the temple of Sune. What was surprising was the maker's mark―Casavir's father's―on the base of the statue. Casavir immediately knelt down and ran his hand over it reverently. "That's when he was still going by Arik Stonecarver before he changed it to Carver."

Dee had been gazing into the face of the statue for a few moments until she saw him and knelt beside him. She looked from the mark to his face. "This is getting weird, Cas."

He looked at the statue and the date then grinned at Dee. "I remember this one now! I was only about four or five, but I remember I was allowed to come with my family to the city for the first time instead of staying with my grandparents in the village. I remember _her_ now. She was very beautiful even to my young eyes, and she sang a song while my father sketched her that gave me the shivers. That must have been about four years before you were born. But it's not so strange that she modeled for him when you consider she modeled for other artists and we know they were related."

Dee shivered. "Yes, mayhap they were closer than distant cousins. I really hope our children don't have tails."

They stood and gazed at the statue until Casavir broke the silence with a soft sigh. "There's a meeting of my order this afternoon I must attend. Let me walk you two back to the Flagon, and I'll see you this evening."

They took a leisurely walk back to the Flagon. She turned to him outside the door and he smiled, murmured "My lady," and gave her a lingering kiss.

She laughed and stepped back. "You're going to be late! I'll take another one of those before you go though to last me until tonight." She stretched up and returned kiss.

Suddenly they heard a loud, coarse laugh and a woman's voice behind them. "Well again, Casavir! Is that really you? Is it possible you've grown taller still? And gods, you've taken up with boys now? With a bear? What are you now, circus performers?"

They spun and Dee scowled at a small, wasted-looking woman wearing too much paint in a faded low cut red gown with no chemise underneath and a skirt that was split to expose her pantaloons. Her hair was piled loosely on top of her head and hung in messy curls. Dee didn't need confirmation from Casavir to know who she was, and she could tell from the woman's thin frame, yellow skin despite the heavy coating of powder, sunken eyes, and nervous twitch that she spent most of her coin on cheap wine and worse. Most likely intoxicants such as 'dragon's milk,' a black tarry resin imported from Sembia. She had never even heard of such things in West Harbor but had learned from her time on the Watch that it was a popular, cheap intoxicant in the Docks District where it was smoked in secret dens.

Casavir replied with cool civility, "Hulda. Well again. I hardly know you, you are so changed."

She replied with a sneer, "It's _Opal_, Casavir, not Hulda. But you never could get that right. Do you mistake this boy's name too?"

He glared at her. "I won't allow you to mock her, and I have nothing to discuss with you!" Cillian growled because the other male was growling. He didn't like the way the small female smelled either.

Dee grabbed Casavir's hand and laid the other on Cillian's head to calm them. She had held her tongue at first at the implied insult, but then she thought better of it as she realized how deep the insult truly went. "I'm no boy, woman, but if I were, what difference would it make to you or anyone if he did have feelings for a man? What business is it of yours?"

She laughed rudely as she looked Dee over, hands on her hips. "At least she has spirit to make up for her lack of a woman's shape. Does he last any longer with you than he did when I was with him, honey? You should be thankful I taught him a few tricks."

Dee was about to reply that she was sure the only tricks the wench knew involved donkeys when Casavir snarled, "You will leave my lady out of this. I have nothing to say to you, Hulda, and I am certain you can have nothing to say to me. I suppose your only motive for approaching me is that you need coin..."

The woman's dark rimmed eyes lit up greedily, but she composed herself and interrupted, "I've no business with you at all, Casavir, although I suppose you do owe me something for all you cost me. I'm here to speak to someone inside about a position."

Dee answered with a voice dripping with sweet venom. "Oh my. Tymora certainly isn't watching over you today my dear Hulda, or is it Ophala?" She gestured at the front entrance of the Flagon. "Not only is this my uncle's tavern, but the woman hiring for the festhall? It's at my..._our_ Keep, and I won't have anyone employed there with such an unsavory past as you." Casavir started to object, and she stopped him with a finger to his lips. "You don't have to say anything, love. I'm just laying out the facts to _Opal_." She turned her attention back to the woman whose face was blotchy red with barely controlled fury. "He's told me all about what you did to him. Good day."

Cillian had been watching the exchange, confused as to why the females were fighting over the male, but the two leggeds were difficult for him to understand at the best of times and often did things contrary to nature. He raised up on his hind legs to support Dee though and roared as the woman stalked off cursing them both loudly.

Casavir was shaking from the effort of restraining himself, his hands at his side balled into fists and his knuckles white. Dee murmured "settle down, love" to Cillian to calm him, then wrapped Casavir up in a bear hug and murmured, "I'm so sorry, love." He took her face in his hands peering into her eyes then held her tightly for a few minutes until Dee kissed him softly and whispered, "You'll be late to your meeting, love. I'll be waiting here for you."

He smiled wryly with the knowledge that he had gained the same standing in her heart as her bear. He murmured "That's three." He gave her three soft kisses in return, then released her and walked away as she stared at him puzzled at what that meant.

Dee watched him until he was out of sight then quickly took Cillian to her room. She strode into the tavern's kitchen, snatched an apron off the shelf and started rummaging around. Duncan heard the noise and ambled in, and he leaned against the door and watched her opening various bins and containers with a bemused expression. "Tell me what're ye lookin' for before you tear up my kitchen, lass."

Dee glanced over at him. "Can you help me, Uncle? I want to make Cas one of Rhetta's tarts before he gets back, and I don't have but a couple of hours."

He raised an eyebrow as he looked over her shoulder at the piece of parchment lying on the table carefully written in a florid script. "Not Rhetta's famous apple tart? Mind if I copy this out, lass?" He didn't wait for her to answer as he found a quill and the back of a receipt to jot it down on.

She muttered distractedly as she pulled out a rolling pin then poured flour into a bowl, "I'm sure she won't mind... so what's a cardamom? What if the apples aren't tart? Do you have any fresh butter or fine flour?"

He chuckled gleefully and rubbed his hands together. "Cardamom! So that's her secret! You can send the boy out for that, but he'll likely have to go to the Merchant Quarter for the cardamom, and 'tis not a cheap spice. We can busy ourselves with cuttin' up apples until he returns."

When Casavir opened the door, the smell of fresh baked apple tart rolled over him like a wave as Duncan and his kitchen boy had made enough tarts to serve that night in the tavern as well. Shandra poked her head into the kitchen and hissed, "Dee! He's back!" and Dee quickly stepped out of the kitchen, flour streaked across her cheek and into her hair and apple juice staining her apron and her sleeves. Her eyes lit up when she saw him there; a part of her was afraid he would retreat to Old Owl Well again. She strode over and took his hands in hers. "I thought we might eat in my room tonight. There's salmon fillets, roasted potatoes and squash, winter salad, and apple tart!"

He set the tray on the table as she put away her spectacles then stood beside it politely, waiting for her to sit. She kicked off her boots, pulled off the apron, and gestured at the seat. "Go ahead, I won't be but a minute," She sighed after she unlaced her bodice and hung it on a peg. "That is such a relief to get that thing off!"

Casavir removed his doublet and draped it over the back of the chair then sat at the table and tried a bite of the salmon. She sat beside him at the small table as Cillian chuffed at his bonded companion and their strange mating rituals. Didn't her male know he was supposed to bring her food? She sat with her chin in her hands and watched Casavir eat until he had taken several bites of everything. He wiped the flour off her cheek with his thumb and grinned. "It's very good, my lady. Aren't you eating though?"

"Me? Oh! I ate some apple while we were cuttin' them up. I guess I was so busy I forgot to get something for myself." She blushed as he shook his head at her and chuckled.

He gestured at the tray. "There's plenty enough here for both of us." He speared a piece of fish and held the fork to her lips, and she took it back and fed him a bite of potatoes. After that they took turns passing the fork back and forth feeding one another, taking drinks from a goblet of water, and exchanging kisses in between bites until there was nothing left but the tart. He offered her the first bite.

She smiled at him and fed him a bite, then took another and watching him watching her, dribbled it down the front of her shirt. She looked down and gasped, "Oh no, I should wash this before it stains." She stood and pulled the shirt over her head leaving wearing only her camisole and scrubbed it in the basin with some of Duncan's harsh lye soap while Casavir ate a healthy portion of the tart and watched her and laughed.

She stuck her tongue out at him as she rinsed it though it lightened her heart to hear him laugh so much. "It's cotton. Comes from somewhere in the east and costs almost as much as silk! Sure is sturdy though, and soft..." She wrung it out and hung it over the back of her chair.

He chuckled at her again. "And now you have nowhere to sit. Allow me." He smirked and held out his hand to her and pulled her onto his lap. He took in her strong, lithe body as he put an arm around her and caressed her arm lightly. "You are slender, and truly between the smithing and the sword training your arms are more developed than those of many men, but you certainly don't look anything like a boy."

She shrugged and blushed. "Yeah, and I ain't about to give up the smithin' either. It helps me think, and it helps me not think too. When all this is over, I should like to find a place in the country where I can set up a forge and you have access to rock."

He caressed her cheek. "Nor should you give up your smithing. I would like that." He took her chin in his hand. You have the prettiest smile, my lady, and you glow like the dawn when you blush, have I told you that?"

That provoked a deeper blush. "No you haven't, and I can't believe how good it feels to hear you say it. I never thought I was the sort of woman who needed to hear things like that, or cared to even. My turn then. I love that way you set your jaw when you're very determined about something, and I could gaze into your beautiful blue eyes all night."

She leaned in, put her arms around him and nuzzled his neck, taking in his scent. He slid his right hand behind her head to pull her close and kissed her deeply. She returned the kiss and fought the urge to strip off his shirt as much as she wanted to run her fingers through the dark mat of hair on his chest. Instead she let him lead and followed at his pace. As he kissed her neck and throat his fingers found the edge of her camisole and stroked the smooth exposed skin of her taut belly. She gasped as he reached higher and gave her nipple a hard pinch.

"Did I hurt you?" He drew back and looked at her in alarm.

She smiled, shook her head, and pulled apart the laces at the throat of his shirt. She reached in, running her fingers across his chest then pinched him lightly too. Hulda apparently hadn't taken his pleasure into account when they were together for all she thought she had taught him. She forced thoughts of the wench from her mind and kissed him along his jaw then across his neck to his throat.

He shivered and reached back under her camisole. They kissed and explored each other for some time until she slid her hand up his thigh then stroked the bulge straining through his trewes. He gasped and pulled back, and she quickly took her hand away. He met her eyes again. "My lady...I fear I shall be undone if we don't stop."

She ran her fingers through his hair. "Do you want to stop? Is this too soon?"

He looked perplexed. "Yes...No...I want to make love to you...but shouldn't we wait? Perhaps it _is_ too soon."

She kissed his neck and could almost taste his fear. "We have time, Cas. We're going to be a few days on the road tomorrow though. We'll have a few days at the Keep until we leave for Arvahn too. We have a year and a day, but I hope we're not going to wait that long."

He took her hand and kissed it. "A year and a day...It does seem a very long time."

She snuggled against him. "We don't have to wait the time out. We could decide marry before then, or we might think better of it and go our separate ways."

He looked stricken at the thought of separating from her. "Most likely we will marry. In fact, we could go back to the temple in the morning."

She smiled. "We don't have to be married just to make love. Besides, I want you to be sure of the good of joinin' your heart with another. I would want to have it at the next harvest fair in West Harbor. I want Daeghun there, and Elanee, and Neeshka too. She would be so hurt if she missed it." She stood and stretched and he swallowed hard as he watched her. "We don't have to make love tonight, but I would like to sleep beside you, unless you think that's too much temptation for you. And if it is, then here's a kiss good night, and I'll see you on the morrow. I'm going to get into my nightgown, and you can do what you will." She kissed him then stepped behind the screen that served as a dressing area and pulled off her socks and leggings then wiggled out of her small clothes.

He sat there watching her shadow through the screen and made his decision. He stood and said, "Those small clothes you purchased yesterday...the ones with the ruffles?"

She paused and replied with a murmured "Hmmm? What about them?" even as she recalled his reaction when she showed them to him. She could hear him moving, then heard his boot drop onto the floor, and smiled as it was followed by its mate. She knelt and fished them out of her pack. She heard rustling movements, his quick footsteps across the floor then heard the bed creak under his weight.

He spoke so quietly she almost didn't hear him. "I'd love to see you in them. Tonight, if you will."

She pulled them on, waited a heartbeat, and stepped out from behind the screen. She wasn't at all surprised that he had the covers pulled up to his neck, and she suspected he was still wearing his small clothes. He gasped as he saw her, and she felt herself blushing again from head to toe at the hungry way he looked at her. She stood there for a moment with her arms folded behind her head then walked over to him slowly, swaying slightly in the way she had seen the women at the Mask do. She stopped next to the bed and turned around and shimmied, shaking the ruffles at him.

He laughed and pulled the bedding aside for her, taking care to keep himself covered. She slipped in beside him and lay her hand on his chest. He sat up and looked into her eyes. "I would like it if you pose for me some day." He pulled back the covers and gazed at her body for so long she blushed again as he ran his hand over her from her thigh to her shoulder. He gave her a soft kiss on the lips, then worked his way down her neck and across her chest. He removed her small clothes and paused to gaze at her again. She smiled at him and pulled back the blanket down slowly and ran her hand across his chest and followed the line of fine dark hair down his rippled belly.

But he seized her hand and stopped her. "Please, my lady. I don't know if I can bear your touch just yet."

She relented and whispered, 'Very well love, for now."

He held her against him nuzzling her cheek and her neck and murmured, "You were going to tell me about your dreams, you know the ones you said you had to whisper to me?"

She bit his earlobe and said softly, "Yes...Let's see...at first you..." She whispered in his ear and he chuckled and murmured "I did?" and caressed her back down to her hip. She nodded and continued whispering as she stroked his chest and finished with, "And here's the part that's probably a little bit illegal..."

He gasped as she whispered and flushed crimson but replied, "Nothing that is done between consenting adults in their private chamber should be illegal, but I'll work up to that one. For now...I think I'll try to make your other dreams come true."

She squealed and hugged him, lay back and let him explore her body at his own slow pace with his hands, his tongue, and his teeth, though he was driving her mad with anticipation. He was good and giving, and knew much more than she expected, needing no guidance from her once he got over his initial shyness. The whole tavern must have heard her as she cried out, but she didn't care as the spasms of pleasure washed over her.

He kissed her inner thigh, smiled up at her and asked with mock formality, "Did that meet with your approval, my lady?" He gave her a few more kisses there and a little nip that she was sure was going to leave a mark. He kissed his way back up her body and took her in his arms.

She stroked his leg with her foot and wrapped the other leg around his waist and kissed him. "Yes, that was delightful. But I'm afraid you're being neglected. Allow me to return the favor."

He answered by pushing into her and giving her a quick, deep thrust that made her gasp. "Sorry, my lady. I couldn't wait any longer." Bracing himself against the foot board as she held on for the ride, he thrust vigorously, holding on to her tightly and searching her eyes the whole time. He finished a few minutes later with a last shudder and a loud groan and collapsed on top of her for a moment, laying his forehead against hers.

He kissed her and was about to say something, and she sensed another apology forming. She cut him off with another kiss and whispered, "You've nothing to apologize for, Cas. It's been years since you've been with a woman, so that's to be expected. The next time it'll be longer." She kissed him along his strong jaw and down his neck and throat then nipped her way across his chest and down to his waist. That was as far as he would let her go, so she yielded and kissed him until he was ready again, and then he proved her right. Finally sated, they pulled up and covers and snuggled together until they drifted off to sleep.

They had to lease another wagon besides the one they arrived with, and it occurred to Dee as they tried to get everything in this would probably always be the case. Khelgar was in the lead wagon beside the teamster. It was full of supplies for the Keep as well as several new urchins, several for the Keep and two hired to work at the festhall, who huddled quietly on their packs and a few pillows between crates. Shandra was driving the next wagon with Maisie Jons sitting beside her. It was filled with supplies and the entertainers for the festhall, including four girls, a boy, three cats in wicker baskets, as many rucksacks and chests as they could cram in the wagon, and Sand, whom the ladies found utterly charming. He lay in their midst and they stroked his ears, giving him the same affection they lavished on their cats.

Thanks to his spells they were making much better progress than should be possible considering the season and the condition of the road. The riders were spaced out along the caravan watching the woods and the road ahead. Dee spotted something in the trees, just a flash, and cursed in not bringing Neeshka or Bishop to scout ahead. But she cursed again at herself for getting soft. She reminded herself she was a ranger, so she tied Blossom to the lead wagon and took off on foot with Cillian. It didn't take long to confirm her suspicions, and she doubled back just as the others were pulling into a clearing to make camp for the night. Sand was casting _Leomund's Secure Shelter_ as she strode into camp.

Dee spoke softly with Shandra, who whispered to Sand as she gathered the children and hustled them into the structure, followed by the widow and her entertainers. Dee walked up to Casavir, who was securing the horses, and gave him a kiss as he wrapped his arms around her then whispered as she nuzzled his neck, "We're bein' stalked." She felt him stiffen and added, "Shandra is passing the word and getting everyone in the shelters."

He held her nervously and whispered back, "Who do you think it is, bandits?"

She gave him a quick kiss and whispered, "Bandits or mercenaries out to collect that Luskan bounty on me. We should go join the others, but kiss me again first." He held her so tightly he almost squeezed the breath out of her as he kissed her again fiercely, and they turned towards the camp.

They had just stepped into the clearing where they saw Maisie Jons shutting the door of the shelter as one of the teamsters grabbed a belaying pin from under the seat. Shandra casually cleaned her great sword outside it while Sand and Khelgar patrolled the perimeter. Cillian came bounding over to her and reared up on his hind legs to sniff the air and roared towards the east.

Just then, a scruffy-bearded scale mail-clad dwarf stepped out of the brush and held his hand up. "Evenin', Captain. Figured you spotted us, so no time like the present to introduce ourselves, though would've been better about second watch."

Dee raised an eyebrow as two other men in leathers joined him. She casually shrugged her cloak back off her shoulders freeing her to draw her swords if need be and said calmly, "Evenin' stranger. You seem to have me at a disadvantage. You know me, but I don't know you unless you're part of Khel's clan." Casavir also shrugged his cloak back and stood to her side with his hand on his war hammer sizing up the new arrivals while Cillian turned, rose up again and growled at the brush behind them.

The dwarf's party was joined by a dark, surly looking half-orc with one tusk that jutted out from his lower jaw bearing a huge ax as well as a thin half-elf whose handsome face was marred by a deep scar running down from his left eye to the corner of his mouth. He was wearing chain mail over a dirty black robe and carried a flail. Dee looked him over quickly for any visible clerical symbols. She didn't doubt that there were several others hidden in the brush, most likely a mage and several archers.

The dwarf snorted derisively and wiped his nose on his cloak. "You mean that poor excuse for a dwarf over there in his pajamas? I wouldn't claim him even if he were kin of mine! I've seen females that looked more able."

Khelgar bellowed, "Yeah? Well you're not fit to clean the Ironfist shite houses."

"Is there somethin' we can help you and your friends with? What's your business with us?" Dee was pretty sure she knew the answer as they didn't look like they wanted to share the camp, but she had to ask.

He said jovially, "I like a lass who's direct. Well you see, Captain, there's a small matter of that bounty on your head. There are some in Luskan who were none too happy about the way you got out of bein' hanged fer yer crimes and embarrassing Luskan in the process. And the way we figure, you've got to have some pretty choice gear to have survived this long, so we'll be helpin' ourselves to that too. No hard feelings, but the bounty is dead or alive, and it's a lot easier to haul your long-legged carcass to Luskan over the back of your horse than to take you back in chains. Hells, Garn here can animate your corpse and you can walk back carryin' me on your shoulder."

Dee replied evenly, "You must know my reputation. I'm very good at killing, and so are my friends. Why don't you all get on your way, and we'll forget this ever happened. That way we all go on livin' for another day."

The half elf looked troubled, and Dee nodded at him. "Walk away now, friend. Cyric won't mind." She turned her attention back to the leader. " As for you, how about you take my sword instead? It's got to be worth as much as the bounty on me. I'm sure you're well aware we're escorting women and children to Crossroads Keep. Take my swords and walk away."

The dwarf laughed loudly and nudged the half-orc and pointed at her. "She's funny. That's a good one, but there's not just you. I've done some checkin' while we was in Neverwinter, and there's a few in the Hosttower who would pay handsomely for long ears there, and the mama whore? Do you even know anything about her?" He nodded towards Maisie Jons peering out the door of the structure. "She's got an old bounty from way back for givin' testimony against some Luskan agents. She should have stayed 'disappeared' and she might have lived a bit longer. As for the others, we can sell any of the whelps who survive in Luskan, and the whores too." He drew his battle ax. "I'm beginin' to get bored with our conversation, Captain."

Dee slid her swords out of their scabbards as Casavir drew his silver hammer and Sand reached slowly into a pouch on his belt. "Take me and my gear and no one has to get hurt. I yield to you if you give your word you let the others go in peace." Casavir gasped "My lady! No!"

The dwarf chuckled loudly. "You're in no position to extract promises or set the terms, Captain Farlong." Dee glanced beside her quickly and realized that Cillian was frozen in place. Either a cleric or mage who could cast a _Hold Animal_ spell was hidden in the brush.

Khelgar growled, "And you have no honor, you lily-livered spawn of a lame kobold! Lass, this one's mine! Come on you coward, let's settle this with just you and me fighting bare-handed, dwarf to dwarf."

The dwarf laughed and nudged the half-orc beside him again. "Let me take care of baldie, and you can have some fun with the Captain before we kill her, and then you and Gus can eat her innards, long as her face is intact so's they can identify her."

The half-orc didn't reply. He stood there grinning stupidly at Maisie Jons who beckoned him with a finger, a bit of spittle trailing out of the corner of his mouth. But then an arrows flew past them and into the door of the shelter and she screeched and slammed the door, as another hit Dee in the right thigh. Casavir growled and charged the hidden archers in the brush. Sand and a black robed woman who stepped out of the treeline were calling up spells, chanting and pointing at one another. Dee didn't have time to see which of them would get the spell off first. She followed Casavir and charged the hidden enemies swinging both swords as Casavir tried to block her with his shield. Khelgar deftly dodged more arrows and ran amazingly fast on his stubby legs, jumped up into the air, and slapped his fingertips lightly on the leader's chest.

He sprung backwards as his opponent laughed and swung his ax at him. Khelgar dodged it and stood back. "What in the nine hells was that, baldie?"

Khelgar shouted, "That? Yer dead, ye just don't know it yet!" The leader laughed though his eyes betrayed his fear. Suddenly he clutched his chest and fell down where he stood as blood poured out of his mouth. Khelgar backflipped over to Shandra, who was defending the structure and fighting a huge dark haired man armed with a wicked looking falchion. The teamsters were gamely holding off a brute of a man and a woman with a saber in armor so skimpy it had to be enchanted. Dee and Casavir had covered the ground between them and the archers, who grimly drew their swords to defend themselves.

In the aftermath of the battle Dee worked an arrowhead out of her shoulder as the widow and one of her girls cast healing spells on Shandra and one of the teamsters, who had taken a vicious blow to the forehead. The others were tending to the children, most of whom were huddled together crying softly. Sand was digging out healing potions from his pack and handing them out, his skin waxy, his perfect hair askew, and his eyes betraying his exhaustion from the battle. Dee knelt beside the dwarf and examined his corpse, but she could see no visible wounds save for five small circles on his chest where Khelgar had touched him. She had heard of such attacks but never seen one, but she would ask him to explain later when they were safely at the Keep.

Casavir was checking the attackers to see if any remained alive, but they were all dead except for the half-elven cleric, who had run off the first chance he got. Even the half-orc the widow had charmed had been cut down by his own archers before he could be turned on them, the silly grin frozen on his face in death. Cillian, free from the hold spell, was tasked with roaming through the brush looking for anyone still hiding there. Casavir began the grim task of dragging the bodies to a clearing so that Sand could immolate them with a _Fireball_ spell. Dee helped, searching the bodies and removing anything useful as they went along. She muttered in a quavering voice as she closed the dwarf's eyes, "Give my regards to Kelemvor. Should have walked away, fool." She tossed the dwarf's axe in the pile. "Now your gear is ours. Why didn't you walk away?" Casavir came up beside her and put his arm around her.

Dee blinked away tears and asked, "Will the killing ever stop?"


	25. Love Me, Love My Bear

Chapter 25 Love Me, Love My Bear

Usual disclaimer: The characters belong to Obsidian and a lot of other people except an occasional NPC and a bear-loving ranger. Some of Casavir's dialog is paraphrased from the NWN2 OC.

Dee avoided Casavir's eyes as her companions looked from one to the other and silently exchanged shrugs while being careful not to let her see them do it. All except Qara, who smirked at Bishop, and Bishop, who had to restrain himself from laughing. He had hoped this was coming since that day he returned from his spying expedition to Neverwinter and found Qara sulking alone in the tavern.

Dee had failed utterly to see through the girl's facade of disdain, and so had failed to understand how much she had wanted them to beg her to come along so she could show them how useful she could be, how they wouldn't be able to get by without her power, how they would be fools to rely solely on that hedge wizard Sand. Dee took her at her word when she declined to join them again and again and now was oblivious to the depth of the girl's animosity towards her. Or Bishop's for that matter, for unlike Qara he kept it well hidden. She simply didn't give them much thought with everything else she had demanding her attention, to her peril.

Bishop was told by Katriona when he returned that they had left for Neverwinter the day before, so he headed with Karnwyr to the tavern. Time enough later to sneak into Dee's room since they would be gone for half a tenday at least. He spotted Qara sitting alone and bought the sulking girl a drink, and then another, and turned on his charm and flattery until he loosened her lips about the happenings at the Keep in his absence. Along with the list of grievances against everyone she delivered, Qara was all too happy to tell him what she had overheard about Dee and Casavir, how they were sneaking around until she had a chance to talk to Bishop. He flew into a rage, attracting the attention of Sal and the few other customers in the tavern as he ranted about what a whore the fickle swamp wench was, and how it figured that she would throw her thighs open for the paladin since he had a taste for whores.

Qara instinctively began summoning the energy for a _Burning Hands_ spell even as she replied eagerly, "You're joking, Casavir and whores? Tell me more!" Rightly so, because Bishop's first instinct was to smash his fist in her in the mouth for delivering the bad news. But he was mollified by her interest in what he had learned even as he reached for the skinning knife Dee had made him that was hidden in his boot. So instead of killing one another he bought a bottle of fire whiskey and they spent the evening at a table out of Sal's earshot getting drunk and commiserating about how much they were both abused by life. He might have given the fire-haired wench a tumble that night as he half carried her back to her quarters except he was afraid of her setting the bed, or more likely him, on fire afterwards when she figured out he wasn't interested in anything but a screw.

The next night after the servants had gone to bed Bishop sneaked into Dee's room. He was afraid the tiefling might have set traps as Dee had threatened to have her do. But he reasoned that Dee would have seen that would put the servants in danger too, and she was oh so concerned about them. Wench couldn't even see what a weight these people were, dragging her down, and him as well if he wasn't careful. He lit a candle and began his search. To his disappointment he found the bed linens had been changed and her laundry basket was empty. Still, there was no sign of the paladin's presence there either, so he assumed that Qara was right and he wasn't screwing her yet. Bishop figured his holiness would never work up the nerve unless he thought they were about to die or she got him drunk. He snorted and muttered quietly, "Yeah, like that would ever happen." If he hadn't talked to that whore in Neverwinter and learned Casavir's dirty little secret, he would have wondered if the paladin's attraction to Dee was because she was built like a boy.

So he filled his time until they returned with hunting and making arrows and even showed her pet Wolf how to skin a deer he managed to shoot and tan its hide with its own brain. He explained as they worked how every animal had enough tannin in its brain to tan its own hide, then added "Including humans" just to see the brat's reaction. He grudgingly admired the brat for being a survivor though, and like Dee he thought Wolf had the natural instinct of a woodsman and maybe a ranger some day.

Besides taking care of her pet brat, he made himself useful to Katriona by teaching the new Greycloaks archery, though questioned what reason he had to be here. So it was truly over? Why should he care, he grumbled at Karnwyr. He was free, so why the hells did he stay? He reminded himself his reason for needing to be here at all was to find out what Duncan had told her about him, and if a lie is repeated often enough it's taken for the truth, even if the person is lying to himself.

Days later Karnwyr perked up his ears as he heard the wagons coming while they were still out on the road along the fields, so Bishop made himself scarce until they had pulled in and unloaded. It was easy enough to hide as the attention of most of the Greycloaks and Veedle's workers, not to mention Bishop's for a moment, was entirely focused on the scantily clad contents of the second wagon. Time enough for that later though. He watched from the shadows of the stable as Dee and Casavir led their horses in and turned them over to the hostler. He grit his teeth when the wench threw her arms around the paladin's neck and gave him a passionate kiss. From the familiar way he held her while they thought they were unobserved, with one hand low on her hip giving her a gentle squeeze, from the way they gazed at one another and the way she smiled that devastating smile of hers at him, it was clear things had progressed.

Her damned bear must have caught his scent, for he reared up and chuffed in his direction. She whispered to the paladin who stepped back, a look of guilt on his face like he had just been caught pilfering the temple. Bishop sent Karnwyr out ahead of him then stepped out of the stall he was hiding in, stretching and yawning as if he had just awakened. He had picked a piece of hay out of his hair and drawled, "Finally back, Captain? I thought mayhap you came to your senses and figured out what a shithole Nasher stuck you with and you made good your escape."

She turned to Casavir and dismissed him, but Bishop thought he was too much a fool to realize it. "Go tell Kana I'll be along directly." Casavir looked like he would rather chop off his right arm than leave her alone with Bishop, but he grumbled, "Very well, my lady," and left for the Keep. Bishop guessed he figured she was safe enough with the bear, who was staring intently at Bishop. She had watched him until he was out of the stable then turned to back to Bishop. "I guess you've figured out Cas and I are together now. I wanted to tell you myself. We got handfasted in while we were in Neverwinter, and we may marry next year..."

He used every bit of restraint he could summon up to reply evenly, "That so? I'd congratulate you, but..." He shrugged and dropped on his haunches beside Karnwyr and calmed himself as he ruffled his fur; easier not to make eye contact that way. "I could see it coming, so it's not that much a surprise. You've changed since that night at the temple."

She asked warily, "But?," as she dropped down on her haunches beside Cillian.

He suppressed a grin as she took the poisoned bait and replied with a shrug of feigned indifference, "I don't know, Dee. You've changed for sure. But you're a ranger, or at least you _used _to be. How long are you going to be content here training farmers, listening to villagers' complaints and signing requisitions when your heart is out there in the wild? How long has it been since you've been able to blaze a trail alone or sleep out under a starry sky? How long since you've gone fishing or hunting just because you felt like it? How long is that bear gonna be content to stay by your side if you're trapped in this Keep?" He knew that last one stung from the look on her face so he pressed his attack. "Have you worked the forge at all lately? How long before he suggests you put away your hammer and tries to tame you and turn you into a proper little wife and a proper lady?"

He saw her scowl and the anger flare in her eyes at once, so he changed his attack. "Calm down. All I'm sayin' is how well do you really know him, Dee? I didn't want to say anything to you, but I heard some talk about him in Neverwinter. I heard the reason he beat a hasty retreat to Old Owl Well was because he killed a man over a festhall wench..."

She bristled and cut him off as soon as he uttered the words, and he had to turn away from the anger in her eyes. "That wasn't why he left! He's told me all about that. He wasn't much more than a boy then. He's made his peace with Tyr, and Tyr has made His peace with Cas. 'Tis no one's gods damned business! Cyric's balls! Why were you digging up old scandals anyway?"

He held up his hands and used all his experience in soothing an angry animal. "Now calm down, Dee. I was just watchin' your ass trying to keep you from getting hurt. Don't I always cover your ass when you charge in without looking?" He gave her that little boy pout that he knew always used to soften her heart.

She sighed and scratched Cillian's head and looked at Bishop sadly. "Yeah, you do at that, and honestly I don't know why. Bish, we're not going to be together again. We're like fire and water. We want different things out of life, and besides, you know you don't want to be tied down."

He gave her a well-practiced wounded look. "Yeah, I've known that for a long time, Dee. I've accepted that. What really hurts me is that you can't accept that I can want to be here to help out without thinkin' the only reason is I want you back. We do want different things out of life, and guess in that sense he's a better match for you. I'd be happy for you except..."

"Except?" She gave him a look that demanded an answer.

He had her hooked, all right. He took a breath before he continued acting as if he was reluctant to go on. "All right then. You know I used to lead rich fools with more coin than brains on hunting trips. One night we were sitting around the fire pit, this was back before the trial, and they were all full of questions about you. I think that being your lover was the main reason they hired me." He paused and rubbed his chin as if trying to recall the details of the lie he was only crafting now. "One of them, I don't recall who...those old fools look alike to me. He said that it was difficult to believe in your innocence considering the company you kept. I asked him what he meant because I thought he was talking about me, and let me tell you, it was all I could do to stop myself from planting my boot up his bony ass. He told me a story then about the only son of a friend of his he said was murdered by Casavir, and then another of them confirmed his story. I assured them that you were as ignorant of Casavir's past as I had been."

She shrugged and looked down at Cillian, whose small brown eyes watched the ranger closely. He didn't believe a word that came out of the ranger's mouth. Not that he could understand what the sounds meant, but he knew that the tone meant nothing good for his bonded. To him it was like the warning sound of a rattlesnake before it strikes. Finally Dee looked back at Bishop and smiled ruefully. "Thanks, Bish. I do appreciate you tryin' to help, but you only heard one side of the story. Cas was led astray by a wicked woman he trusted because she had been a childhood friend. He was little more than a boy, and it was before Tyr called him as his paladin. Here's the real story." She related what Casavir had told her about the incident then stood and looked out the door of the stable. "Anyway, I have to get to the Keep because Kana's coming looking for me. You're coming with us to Arvahn? We're not leaving until next tenday though. There's a storm comin'." It wasn't so much of an order as it was a hopeful request. He could see the pleading in her eyes that told him she needed things to be right between them.

He smiled and stood and offered his hand and gave her his most charming smile. "Yeah, I know. Sure thing, Captain. Like I said, I was only concerned about you. Besides, you'll need your lowly scout. That's orc country, and it's been a while since we've done any orc killing." He winked at her then watched her sprint with the bear to intercept Kana and decided that he would still like to take a bite out of that ass, though he doubted she would enjoy it much. "Yeah, there's a storm coming all right, sweetheart. You don't know the half of it." After that he had played like a tamed monkey though it nearly drove him mad. The next night he listened in on them from the paladin's empty room (no one thought of putting a guard or traps there), discovering like Dee had previously that he could hear every moan and grunt from the other side through the shared fireplace, though there was nothing to be seen because the bed curtains were drawn to ward off the cold.

He encouraged Qara to play along and keep his confidence too, though trying to reason with her was nearly impossible. He got so sick of her usual refrain-"Why should I? I'm the most powerful one here!"-that it was all he could do not to put an arrow in her back as she stalked off. Little wonder the pansy always called her 'stupid girl.' But _he_ could play along. He could be called many things, but no one would accuse him of being stupid.

Thus nearly two tendays later he was with them outside an orcish encampment, still in the captain's good graces watching her argue with that idiot paladin over slaughtering orcs. He didn't want her back at all, but it gladdened his heart to see them so miserable. He took a long drink from his water skin as they rested. He felt...pleasure at the sight. He knew her body language well enough to tell she was barely containing her anger, and he thought she _should_ be furious with him for undermining her authority. He also could tell from the stubborn set of the paladin's jaw he wasn't about to give in either, though his eyes betrayed his misery.

Dee shot a glance at Casavir and recalled their first meeting near Old Owl Well as she sat sulkily chewing a piece of jerked fish:

The battle against the orcs had been grim as they were greatly outnumbered, and as she and Neeshka fought next to Khelgar and Cillian blocking for Elanee's and Qara's spells, both of which were nearly depleted, she wasn't sure they were going to make it this time. That grim assessment only fueled her battle frenzy, however. Though they were surrounded, though they were all wounded, and though three more seemed to appear for every one they cut down, she cursed and fought on. "Send as many of them to their dark gods as we can..." 'before they finish us' completed her thought, but that didn't have to be said. They all knew the fate of female prisoners at the hands of orcs; if they survived the rape queue, they would be worked to death as slaves, so they wouldn't allow themselves to be taken alive.

The very next thing she saw as she slashed up left, right, and left again for the killing blow was a sudden flash of sunlight glinting off a silver war hammer that came crashing down on the temple of the closest orc she was facing, and the tall, blue-eyed man wielding it. He wasn't alone; a blond woman was fast behind him and there were others besides, and the tide of the battle turned in their favor. She remembered the look of terror in the remaining orcs' eyes, and one's dying word—_Katalmach._

Afterwards she had looked up at the handsome dark-haired stranger from where she sat on her haunches wiping her swords on the tunic of a dead orc, embarrassed that he had saved her from such an obvious ambush. "You're this _Katalmach_, I take it. We didn't need your help, you know. But thanks."

"Thank you then for letting us take part in your battle, m'lady," he answered with a mock formal bow, his blue eyes twinkling in amusement.

She sheathed her swords, smiled back and stood, offering her hand. "Dee Farlong, and this handsome lad is Cillian. But in the future, unless I've got at least a half dozen of 'em on me, don't get between me an an orc. I really can't abide the filthy brutes."

He replied dryly, "Yes, it's a ranger thing, I imagine." She wasn't sure if he was mocking her or not, but there was still that bemused twinkle in his eye. He took her hand and shook it. "Casavir, servant of Tyr." That was over a year ago, before Bishop had been forced by Duncan to join them, before Shandra had no other choice but to throw her lot in with them.

Casavir sat down beside Dee quietly and offered her his water skin, though his expression was grim. She scowled at him and moved aside. It wasn't her nature to fume in silence for long though. She kicked a clump of grass poking up through melting snow and growled, "Uthanck Thin-Blood, the brother of Logram Eyegouger. You honestly believe he was gonna negotiate with us? Since when can you trust an orc to keep his word even if we had slaughtered his enemy for him? And since when did you become so damned fond of orcs, _Katalmach_?" She made the name the orcs gave him sound like the curse it was.

He glared at her but restrained an angry response. Instead he uttered a silent prayer to Tyr for guidance as he took a quiet breath and composed himself as best he could. "Perhaps he learned from his brother's death." He rubbed the back of his neck and replied softly, "Dee, I've seen you negotiate with worse than orcs. We don't know what we face ahead at the sites of the other statues, and it would be better to avoid what battles we can. You attacked without warning."

Dee frowned at him. "I gave him plenty of warning. Didn't I say 'I think I'll just kill you instead?' You know what I am, Cas, and you know I can't stand orcs. If you're going to be with me, you better accept that! Once all this is over, if I survive that is, I'll most likely be back out here with Cill where I belong, and fightin' orcs is part of the plan."

He silently thanked Tyr for the insight and put his hand on her forearm. "You've been on edge since the Gem Mines. We were successful in completing that part of the ritual. What is it that troubles you?" She shrugged in reply. He wondered as he watched her what had caused such deep feelings of hatred towards orcs. Was it really a charge given her by Meilikki, or was there something else from her past? Had her foster father had something to do with it? "Perhaps you should let someone else speak if we encounter any others. I don't wish to quarrel with you, Dee. You are our leader, and for questioning your judgment in front of the others I ask your forgiveness. But I sense there is more troubling you. Tell me...let me protect you from what you're struggling with."

She shrugged again. "All those undead, especially the zombies." She shuddered and wrapped her arms around herself. "Don't get between me and a zombie. Gods, of all the undead we've faced they're the worst. Their smell alone makes me want to puke."

He gave her a half smile. "Very well then, my lady. I will be at your side fighting all the undead you want to kill...again." He smiled, that twinkle back in his blue eyes. It wasn't just the undead though that was enough to unsettle anyone, but it was a start, and he was resolved to coax the rest out of her if it took him all day.

Trust Zhjaeve to keep them in focus as she walked over with her arms wrapped around herself, trying to ward off the alien cold. Her irritation was clear in her voice. "Kalach-cha, you must stop this pointless bickering and set out for the next statue at the ruins of Riverguard Keep before we lose the light."

"We'll move out when everyone has had a chance to rest!" She regretted snapping at Zhjaeve as soon as the words flew out of her mouth and flushed in shame. "I'm sorry, but between the cold and the fighting we're worn out. No point in pressing on if we're too tired to face whatever is there when we get there. We're doing all right, aren't we? Found two already. Besides, I'm thinkin' we should head for this Temple of Seasons first." She unrolled and spread the map that the elderly traveler known as Guyven of the Road allowed her to borrow from his collection. 'Tis not very much farther, see? We should be able to scout out Riverguard Keep from this ridge, and 'tis all downhill from there. Since there's only three structures in the valley, I expect the fifth statue must be out in the open like that first one, so we can look around for it from the ridge. Either that or it's through that song portal you pointed out, and who knows where we'll end up then or what we'll have to face. We'll be goin' in blind, so 'tis better if we're well rested."

It _had_ taken over a tenday to get on the trail as Dee had predicted, much to the Githzerai's consternation. The first day back Kana had Dee monopolized from the moment she set foot inside the Keep, asking for "a moment" that Dee knew would stretch into hours. However, part of this was her own fault because she insisted on reading every document and going over the minutiae of the reports until she was confident she understood them, and she was mildly annoyed at Casavir for pointing that out to her. The realization that she had so many lives in her hands still troubled her sleep, and one of her greatest fears was making the wrong decision.

Casavir finally broke in as Kana was introducing the spokesman for a group of people who wanted to establish another village on the Keep's lands. He knew it would take an hour at the very least to go over all the details, so he interrupted Kana diplomatically. "My lady Senechal, the cook said half an hour ago that dinner was nearly ready. Perhaps we can continue this after the Captain has had a chance to eat." He leaned forward and whispered, "I thought something was amiss with your bear, but then I realized that it was your stomach growling."

Dee _was_ starving and finding it difficult to concentrate. She stuck her tongue out at him then smiled and mouthed, "Thanks." She turned to Kana. "I have a better idea. Why don't you all join us and we can discuss this proposal over supper? That way we might get to bed sometime before third watch. Torio, Sir Nevalle, will you join us too? Your advice would be appreciated." She told Kana she was going to change and wash off the trail dirt and quickly left for her chamber before Kana had a chance to argue, looking back over her shoulder at Casavir to see if he was following. He was, but he wasn't alone.

Zhjaeve also followed after a moment and caught up just in time to see him pull Dee into an alcove for a saucy kiss. He broke away and leaned his forehead against hers. "I swear I could taste that last kiss all day. I want to..._have_ you in the worst way."

Dee chuckled and whispered, "The worst way? I get shivers just thinkin' on that one. If it was up to me, you could have me on the desk right inside my door. But there's no time but to share a quick bath." He gasped, and she pressed against him to confirm she had his full attention. "A quick bath. It will be less work for the servants to bring water for one than for two. But there's tonight if we ever get to bed, and tomorrow we can take a more leisurely bath together." She smiled at the desire burning in his eyes.

Zhjaeve interrupted from outside the alcove. "Kalach-cha, I must speak with you. Now that you have returned, we must leave at once to complete the ritual. I must tell you I fear you are becoming distracted from your purpose." Whenever the Githzerai reminded her of her purpose (nagged her was more like it), Dee felt like nothing so much as a tool, and thinking back to Bishop's carefully poisoned words didn't help.

But Casavir surprised her by agreeing with Zhjaeve. He stepped back, caressed her cheek and said, "Perhaps she is right, my lady. We must not let our feelings distract us from the fight against the King of Shadows."

Dee stepped out of the alcove and grumbled, "Yeah. As if I could forget for more than a hour. We're not leavin' for a tenday at least, Zhjaeve. There's a storm coming."

The Githzerai knitted brows showed her annoyance, as did her folded her arms. "Storm or not, time is of the essence, and we have delayed far too long as it is! I fear sometimes you do not comprehend the seriousness of this quest. This is no time for a dalliance!"

Casavir flushed and put a hand on Dee's shoulder to restrain her as Dee snapped, "Tell me, when will I have time, when we're all dead? Go ask Elanee if you don't believe me! You don't know this world, so trust her word if you don't trust mine. We don't want to be caught out of doors day after next!"

Zhjaeve had found Elanee covering the herb garden with burlap sacks, and the druid confirmed what the land told her. "Dee's right, the animals speak it, and so do the plants, though I also agree with you too that she's putting off this journey. We might feel differently if we had someone to care about as she has, as well as someone to lose. Be patient with her, my friend."

Dee was in no mood for any more flirting after that, and she couldn't get Bishop's warning of losing her freedom out of her head. She had just entered her room when Sand, dressed in one of his best gray silk robes, knocked and thrust his hand holding a familiar potion bottle through the door, explaining he stopped by on his way to see to the 'needs' of the ladies of the _Ginger Queen_ with a basket full of bottles of the same potion. "The ladies want me to add some color to their hair, and the boy wants me to _Paint_ his so it looks like Nevalle's. I believe you should be due for this tomorrow, but don't take it before then. You don't need any little blue-eyed complications right now, dear girl." She was glad Cas was out of earshot getting clean clothes out of his room and didn't hear that she had anticipated their becoming lovers and taken the necessary precautions.

So after a quick lukewarm bath (he insisted she go first and would only bathe himself when she was on the other side of a screen and the servants were all gone) they adjourned to the War Room, which also served as the formal dining hall. By the time they had eaten, signed the paperwork for the new village, and gone over the rest of the reports, it was very late when he walked her to her door. He whispered he would join her after he changed for bed. She changed into the nightgown he had bought for her and slipped into bed to wait.

She decided as she fluffed up the pillows that she would suggest he move in with her tomorrow. She was thinking of how she could make room in her chest for his things too when she remembered her mother's chest she brought back from West Harbor. Time to open it up then, and he could use hers. She yawned and stretched to ward off sleep and wondered what the hells was keeping him when she heard the sound of his shy knock on the door to the solar. He entered only after she asked him in. He stood there and gazed at her for a moment before he blew out the candles in the lantern and drew the bed curtains closed. He climbed into bed beside her, took her in his arms, and bent to kiss her, and she stifled another yawn. He murmured, "You are exhausted, my lady."

She kissed him then yawned again. "Yeah, but I'm not too tired for you."

He lay back and turned on his side to face her and put his arm around her, caressing her lightly. "Then let us get some sleep tonight. There's always tomorrow."

She put her arm around him, snuggling against his chest, and murmured as she drifted off to sleep, "If you're sure? I'll make it up to you in the morning then." She recalled how Bishop would have been on her no matter how tired she was, whether she was awake or not.

Dee spent the next morning checking on the the inn, the festhall, and the merchants and sent Shandra and Casavir with some Greycloaks on horseback to the farms to make sure everyone had enough supplies and firewood and bring any who didn't to wait out the storm at the Keep. She arranged watches so no one had to spend too much time outside at the mercy of the elements and gave the order that no one was to be on watch alone. She fretted over Wolf, who had gone hunting on his own, and she was about to ask Bishop to go looking for the boy when he appeared back at the Keep, surprised that anyone was concerned. She swore the boy was taller every time she saw him. He grinned at Dee and nodded towards the hills. "Something's happening. The animals were acting kind of funny, so I thought I better get back, though I only have a few rabbits for all my effort."

She got around to unpacking from Neverwinter that afternoon and called Neeshka and Shandra into her room when she opened Esmerelle's chest. As she had suspected, there wasn't much left in it. Trust Neeshka to find a hidden compartment in the lid and enclosed within a small bag of gems and packet of yellowed letters, carefully folded and bound with a blue silk ribbon, however. Dee set the letters aside in the bottom of the chest. There were some leggings made of a gaudy gold embossed velvet. Dee held them up and chuckled, observing to her friends that she would have outgrown these by the time she was twelve. Neeshka loved them though and could fit into them with just a slight alteration for her tail, and she squealed with delight when Dee gave them to her.

Next she pulled out a wide-sleeved robe which opened in the front made of red silk Shou brocade with a pattern of dragons. Shandra teased her that she must have inherited her love of clothes from her mother. Dee held up the robe. "Yeah, but it ain't like we had a choice but what we could make ourselves in West Harbor. I think my first pair of store-bought shoes spoiled me. Oh look, I can wear this myself! 'Tis short, but..." She slipped it on over her tunic and stood to look at herself in the mirror. "Think I'll wear this for Cas tonight." She picked up the packet of letters again and ran her fingers over the yellowing paper gently but decided she wasn't ready for that intimate of a glimpse into her mother's past just yet. Something was nagging at her and demanding her attention. She replaced them in the secret compartment in the chest, then she sat back with a gasp.

"Something wrong?" Shandra asked as she transferred more clothing from Dee's chest to her mother's.

"Did I miss a needle trap?" Neeshka looked at her with concern and ran her and over the edge of the lid.

Dee shook her head. "No, I forgot Daeghun sent me a letter through the temple. Getting a letter from him is a real novelty, but with everything that was going on, I slipped it in my _Magic Bag_ and forgot all about it until now." She retrieved it from the bag and carefully broke the seal. She recognized his thin, precise script, much like Daeghun himself. "Shite!," she muttered.

"Bad news?" Shandra looked at her with concern as she finished emptying Dee's chest.

"I'm not sure, Shan. He says he went into the Mere after we left, and the dead zone was bigger than he expected! He's going to try to get the Harbormen to evacuate and spread the word to the other villages in the Mere. I should get word to Lord Nasher, but with the storm comin'...I'll ask Sir Nevalle if he has a way of contacting him."

She found Sir Nevalle at the tower along having lunch with Torio Claven and let him read the letter, but she was embarrassed to tell him she had it in her possession while she was still in the city. She thought it odd the former ambassador was there in his quarters, but they seemed to have struck up a friendship since she had arrived, so she put the thought from her mind.

He ran a hand through his perfectly coiffed golden hair and frowned. "I'm leaving for Neverwinter the day after tomorrow. If you would allow me to take this, I'll pass it along to Lord Nasher."

Dee glanced out the window. "The only way you're going out of here for half a tenday is to leave ahead of the storm today on a fast horse. But you shouldn't go alone. Take Grobnar. He's small enough he won't slow your horse down, and he has some pretty useful spells. Besides..." She looked to see if the Luskan woman was listening, but she had gone into the quartermaster's room. "Grobby's a master Harper, and he's the best one to pass word along on the Harper network as my father asked. He plays up the mad gnome act, but you'll find him much different when 'tis just the two of you."

He groaned inwardly at the notion of a trip to Neverwinter in the company of the gnome, but he also thought it was important enough that he shouldn't wait. So by the time his bag was packed and his horse saddled, Dee had explained the situation to Grobnar, who was tinkering with the construct in the basement, and prevailed upon Sand to send them out with as many scrolls and potions as he had on hand to aid them on their journey. She watched them ride off and said a prayer that Daeghun was just being overly cautious.

After that there was nothing to do but wait out the storm. Once everything was secure, Dee turned her attention to Casavir, requesting supper sent to her chamber. By the time Casavir arrived at her room and knocked on the door, she had hauled several buckets of water there and heated them on the fire. She was waiting, the room lit by candles and wearing only the Shou silk robe. She called, "Come in, love, the water is going to get cold, and so is your supper. And you don't need to knock."

He waited until she was on the other side of the screen before he got in the tub, and she gave him a few minutes before she joined him. She gazed at his broad shoulders and chest, the black hair glistening in the candlelight. She wanted to chuckle at the way he drew up his knees and tried to cover himself unsuccessfully with a wash cloth. He was so reluctant to show her his nakedness that she wondered if he had some sort of scar or deformity. But she was covered with scars too, some much worse than the one she had borne most of her life. She smiled at him seductively and slowly shed the robe then squeezed into the tub beside him. Yeah, that wash cloth was definitely not big enough to cover him.

She took some lemon scented soap and worked a thick lather on his chest to give him inspiration then smiled and handed him the bar. He certainly hadn't _felt_ deformed, not that he would let her get close enough to see, or touch him for that matter. He was a very generous lover, but she found that he was very reluctant to receive. Part of it was no doubt due to his shyness, though she also didn't doubt it was also due to his aunt raising him to be ashamed of his body. A man's 'filthy urges' indeed. As kind as his aunt had been to him, she could feel the guilt he tried to hide.

The storm arrived that evening preceded by a howling wind that woke her from her sleep and seemed determined to test the strength of Master Veedle's repair work on the roofs. She got up and opened a shutter and stared out at the storm. Casavir got up and stoked the fire then came up beside her and put the blanket he had wrapped himself in around her shoulders too. "You were so still standing there I wasn't sure you weren't sleep walking. You're like ice! Close that and come back to bed, my lady. " She shut the shutter and the window and drew the heavy curtains. He swept her up in his arms and said shyly, "I...there's another way I can think of to warm you up, as long as we're awake."

The wind was followed just before dawn by an eerie stillness that woke her again, and then a heavy snowfall began as Lathander's first light broke over the hills. It snowed all that day and into the evening. One of the guards spotted Zhjaeve standing outside as the blizzard swirled around her, staring in horrified awe at the power of nature's fury. As she and Elanee led her back inside before she froze to death, Dee whispered, "See? Told you you wouldn't want to be caught out of doors today, nor tomorrow either." The only one who didn't mind the storm was Cillian, who blissfully slept through the whole thing after having taken Casavir's unused bed for his own, though he didn't tell Dee that he had caught Bishop's scent there.

They ate together, they talked, they read in the library and in bed, they turned the great hall into a practice room, she let him sketch her clothed and unclothed, they found different places and ways to make love whenever they could slip away, and she was making great strides with overcoming his shyness. They were about the only ones who weren't tired of the forced confinement.

They awakened on the fourth day to a morning sun that was blindingly bright reflecting off the snow. After allowing Zhjaeve to try walking around in the deep snow which came to the githzerai's knees, she reluctantly agreed they would have to wait to leave until it melted. Fortunately one of Veedle's workers was a dwarf from Icewind Dale with mountaineering experience who showed Jacoby how to fashion snow shoes to use in the mountains. After a few more days spent gathering supplies and learning to walk in them though the snow was turning to slush, they set off for the ruins. They decided that the with the deep snow in the hills the horses wouldn't be very useful after all. No one was more surprised than Dee that Qara asked to go along at the last moment, but Bishop wasn't surprised at all.

They approached the entrance to the Temple of Seasons with the weak late winter sun at their backs. They waited while Bishop and Karnwyr explored so they could be sure they weren't walking into another fight. Casavir offered her his water skin again. "You still seem on edge, Dee. You have said more than once that I withhold myself from you, but aren't you doing the same now?"

She sighed. "It's just..." She didn't want to admit it, but he was right. Once she began, her fears poured out of her. Who was she to be trusted with the kind of power she was gaining from the ritual? What had rattled her even more was learning from the shades and Balaur, the lore keeper,that the King of Shadows had once been an ordinary man who chose to give up his humanity to become the Guardian of his people. Much like her when she thought about it, though at least he had a choice, she added bitterly. He had been a hero to them then, but it hadn't taken long until they saw the danger of their creation and tried to undo his making. She confessed that she hadn't really thought much about what he was, where he came from, or what created him until now. To her he was simply a great nebulous Evil out there somewhere, the slayer of her mother, and responsible for so many other deaths. Yet she learned he had become what he was through the best of intentions, nobly sacrificing his humanity for the sake of his people, and was now nothing more than the embodiment of his charge to defend long-dead Illefarn. If he fell so easily, how easy would it be for her?

Casavir let her get it out then tried to offer words of comfort. "The gods wouldn't have called you to this quest if they thought you couldn't succeed, and you are not alone." He gestured at their companions. "We are all with you."

They heard Bishop make the call of a ruby-rumped swamp wren twice to signal it was all clear ahead. Dee stood and shook off the stiffness. "Let's do this. Two down, three to go, and if it's deserted we can sleep there tonight so we're fresh when we go face that ogre magi at Riverguard Keep. Now he's one I would suggest we negotiate with rather than fight, if we have a choice."

The lock on the door to the temple proved no problem for Neeshka despite its age, and they made their way from season to season, room to room, and fought the defenders along the way. The iron golem in the room dedicated to summer would have been a much harder fight if they hadn't already fought one in the Gem Mines and learned how to defeat it. She let Sand and Qara take care of it with dueling elemental spells, though she wished Grobnar was here to see its destructive power; she wondered aloud if he shouldn't reconsider trying to reactivate the construct.

After they met the challenge of autumn, the door to the last chamber slid open of its own accord, allowing her to receive the blessing of the Cleansing Nova. It seemed perfectly safe to rest there now that they had met the challenges, and it was even cozy after Elanee used a spell to warm the room. Elanee and Shandra were beginning first watch, Khelgar was meditating (Dee could have sworn for a moment he was levitating, but she decided it was a trick of the light), Sand was sitting cross-legged on his bedroll with his spell book carefully selecting spells for the next day, Qara and Zhjaeve had collapsed into their bedrolls and were snoring so loudly Dee was reminded of Cillian hibernating in Casavir's room, and Neeshka and Bishop were making rounds of the other rooms and looting whatever they missed, though Casavir was adamant that the tombs in this room remain undisturbed.

Casavir walked slowly along the row of the tombs of the four heroes, reading the inscriptions on each one by mage light cast on a coin. Dee watched him for a while then got up from her bedroll and walked up beside him. He put his arm around her, glad that the fight earlier was forgotten for now. "Are you all right, my lady? You should be resting."

"So should you. You seem in a melancholy mood." She turned to read the inscriptions aloud.

He listened and took her gloved hand in his then turned to her and asked, "I was thinking on these fallen here and on what you said earlier. Is this how all noble deeds end? Does any worthy cause last only as long as there are those to fight and die for it? And what if there is no one left who believes..."

She thought about it. "How many noble causes are there, really? It seems to me they're all the same. Only the participants change." She squeezed his hand.

He took both her hands in his and gazed into her eyes. "I ask this boon of you, my lady. If I fall, I would like to be buried here. It is quiet...I would speak with those who have gone before. I need to know if what we do makes a difference, but only after I no longer have a choice in life."

She kissed his cheek. "If it is in my power, I swear it, love. But I won't be buried in a place such as this." She tapped her arm. "This isn't me. This body, when 'tis nothing but an empty husk, bury it deep in the forest to feed the land. If you must leave some sort of memorial, plant a tree over what remains. I won't be there, but mayhap I can see it from Meilikki's realm."

He took her hands again. "I swear it, if it is in my power. Perhaps...it is time we make wills in case we both fall and make our intentions known."

She smiled tightly. "Yeah, a will's a good idea. I have nearly a dozen wards I'm legally responsible for that I have to provide for. But think about it; you won't be here either, Cas. You'll be with Tyr if you fall, and He can answer all your questions then, and mayhap sooner if you seek him in prayer. So is there really any point in hauling your remains all the way up here? Not that I'm saying you shouldn't have the burial you desire. You deserve a tomb at least as fine as this. As for me, I think I'm going to have make myself believe we make a difference and help right this great wrong that was done with all the best of intentions, despite knowing what happened to that poor fool we're trying to stop. Otherwise, I don't know if I can go on."


	26. Losing Shandra

Usual disclaimer plus: Quite a bit of dialog in this chapter is paraphrased from the NWN2 OC. I know, I hate that too, but it had to be done. In addition, all of the characters belong to Atari, WotC, Obsidian, and lots of other people, except for a bear-lovin' ranger.

Chapter 26 Losing Shandra

Sir Nevalle finger-combed his wind-mussed golden hair then flicked a few bits of travel detritus from his tabard before he entered the tavern. He saw Torio Claven near the entrance of the Nine's tower. She smirked at him and sent an invitation with a barely perceptible movement of her chin, and he smiled back but shook his head briskly. She would hear the news soon enough. He watched as she pouted and shrugged slightly and turned towards the Keep proper. He had just arrived from the city; he was exhausted and sore from the ride, and he certainly was not looking forward to getting back in the saddle Immediately, but he had his orders. He pulled open the door and looked around for Dee.

With her height and her pale hair she was difficult to miss as she stood leaning back against the wall, her arms folded across her chest. He thought the way she scowled when she was angry (and she looked furious) reminded him of his great aunt Tilly, which wasn't surprising since he had learned to his chagrin that their grandmothers had been cousins. This wasn't unusual either because much of the nobility of Neverwinter was thoroughly inbred. He just hadn't counted the Captain amongst their number.

Her mother had been notorious, climbing out her window and leaping to a nearby tree at seventeen to escape an arranged marriage before taking up a life of adventuring and performing, and not just in respectable festhalls. His branch of the family, under the direction of his mother, had not acknowledged her in their polite society. But he thought her daughter wasn't so bad since he had gotten to know her better. Someone had evidently taken the time to teach her manners, though her speech was still rather uncouth due to her rustic upbringing. This was coupled with a distasteful wildness he often observed in rangers. He had decided despite this that he would suggest to his mother that she be invited for tea once the ceremony was finished.

Dee was engaged in an intense conversation with a stranger, a robed man whose bald head and face were covered with unusual glowing runic tattoos. He echoed her pose, standing with his arms folded tightly across his chest and glowering dangerously as she spoke. With her height they stood eye to eye and glared at one another like two beasts sizing one another up before they fought to the death. It was more than a mere animal competition though; when they made eye contact (Nevalle observed the stranger stared into the fire for the most part and avoided meeting her eyes ) they looked at one another with something akin to hatred. The knight assumed he was some sort of spellcaster, and there was something vaguely familiar about him, but he couldn't put his finger on it at the moment.

It was otherwise oddly quiet in the tavern. Too quiet in fact, and that set his warrior's instinct on edge. The paladin sat nearby watching her every move, and her other companions were scattered about the room, most other than the ranger with with untouched drinks in front of them. He noticed that the tiefling was crying softly, and the dwarf was patting her hand. Besides the paladin and the ranger, the githzerai was also standing nearby watching the argument. The druidess had her arm around the shoulders of the gnome, who was staring at the table and muttering "I still don't understand. How could it have happened?" He had that awkward tingling sensation between his shoulder blades that one gets when entering in the middle of something that warns one to back away. He surveyed the room again. The occupants were dressed in what he supposed were their best clothes, and most of them wore mourning bands on their arms.

At the same moment Dee caught his attention when she got right in the stranger's face and snarled, "Was it really so hard to believe Shandra was still alive? How the hells did you think we were able to get in without Jerro blood? Or is it your habit to murder anyone who gets in your way and with no questions?" Nevalle missed most of the stranger's response, something accusatory along the lines of "Why did _you_ bring her there," spoken in a deep, gravelly voice that rumbled up from deep in his chest. He said something about thinking all his family had been destroyed. The conversation, more of an inquisition, continued, and Nevalle caught snatches of it. The stranger accused her of "blundering in like a fool child," and she countered with, "You knew we had a common foe. You should have come to me after we met at the githyanki lair. We could have worked together. We should have, but no, you had to go it alone!"

The debate continued for several more minutes. As he waited with restrained impatience, Sir Nevalle noticed for the first time an insignificant man with a ferret-like face standing in the shadows near the door wearing the gaudy livery of the Luskan embassy, no doubt Sydney Natalle's dogsbody. Now there was a vulgar creature, and he shuddered at the memory of having had to make polite conversation with her at court and tactfully decline her invitation to dinner at the embassy as she cooed at him and stroked his arm. He wanted to bathe all night in scalding hot water after that encounter. Her dogsbody stood near the door watching the Captain nervously, shifting from foot to foot. He obviously desired an audience with her, but Nevalle would have her first. He wasted no time in dismissing him and stared him down until he scurried away.

Dee caught Sir Nevalle's attention again saying a bit too loudly, "Very well then. I agree since we both possess parts of the Ritual of Purification, we have no choice but to work together. Therefore you are not our prisoner, though you _should_ be. Khel, escort him to _her_ room. He can stay there." Her voice broke a bit at that, and the paladin raised an eyebrow and called her name as he walked quickly to her side. She shook him off as she wiped her sleeve across her eyes and stalked towards the door quickly as if all the fiends of the hells were at her back, the paladin hard behind her. First West Harbor, and now this. It was too much for her, and she wanted to run anywhere just to get away.

The pain of what they found in West Harbor had slowly subsided, though wounds like that leave scars for life. Dee had insisted that they bury the dead after they returned from the ruins in the swamp and found that not only had they had been thwarted in completing the ritual by that strange warlock, but the King of Shadows had sent them a greater enemy—Shadow Reavers. To her credit, Zhjaeve didn't say "I warned you," though Dee thought she could read that in her knitted eyebrows above her veil, and she felt the guilt to her marrow. The scene in West Harbor had been so surreal as it was accompanied by the wail of a phantom child that Dee asked Zhjaeve if it was really happening or if it was only a vision.

But the dead were real enough. Bishop was more bad tempered than usual and angrily insisted they leave before whatever struck here caught up with them too, and when Dee refused until their grim work was finished, he cursed at her and he and Karnwyr stormed out on their own. But he returned a short while later pale and distracted, though he bristled when Dee asked him what happened. Neeshka wrinkled her nose and muttered nervously that she smelled both demons and devils, though she didn't know if they were responsible for the carnage. There was a wrongness about the place, some horror that they could sense emanating from deep in the swamp. It set everyone, not just Bishop, on edge.

So with the help of summoned earth elementals, they quickly dug a pit and lay the dead to rest in a mass grave next to the Starling house. They found Rhetta and one of her twins, but there was no sign of the other twin, nor of Bevil. They fanned out in teams of two and conducted a quick search for survivors, though no one expected to find any. Sand noticed signs that Tarmas had packed up and fled, and Dee noticed right away Daeghun's duskwood bow, quiver, and pack were gone, but Brother Merring was lying outside his small shrine, his arm stretched out and his holy symbol held tightly in his hand. She was heartened by the number of those whose bodies weren't found—besides Bevil and her father, the Mossfield boys, the Buckmans, the Marshes, and several others weren't among the dead. She noted the names of everyone placed in the mass grave in her journal so they could make a marker later. Casavir said a Tyrran prayer for the dead as the elementals filled in the hole with a mound of dirt. Bishop suppressed a sardonic sneer; so much for the swamp wench's plans of marrying his holiness here in the fall.

Instead of using the song portal to return to Arvahn, they repeated her journey of a year and a half before. They found the inn on the edge of the Mere deserted but stopped there just until they were rested. They warned Commander Tann at Fort Locke, and Dee agreed to escort some of the refugees who had been camped at the fort to safety at the Keep. She met Orlen and his sons at their house when they returned and sent the sentry at the gate for the other Harbormen among the 'Cloaks. Telling Orlen and the boys about West Harbor was the hardest part by far. All of them lost at least one friend or family member. Dee hadn't cried, couldn't cry, and Casavir held her close as she lay awake trembling. He struggled too with the painful memories of his childhood that were stirred up, but his desire to comfort her overcame his own pain. Without his calming aura, she wouldn't have gotten any rest at all. Zhjaeve appeared at their room the second night back with a strong sleeping potion as a peace offering, which Dee gratefully accepted, sharing it with Casavir.

They settled back into some semblance of normal life, which for Dee meant throwing herself into her work. Yet it was as if part of her had been buried in that mass grave, and though she attended her duties, at odd moments during the next few days she was as unresponsive as Grobnar's construct. Aldanon and his assistants were tasked with not only trying to find Ammon Jerro's Haven, but also find a way to reforge the Sword of Gith. That was assuming they could even find enough shards to use, and Jacoby was doubtful that it could be done at all even if they had all the shards. Casavir treated her like a porcelain doll for the next several days, as if he was afraid to ask for more than hold her or kiss her gently on her cheek or forehead. After a few days of this, Dee took matters into her own hands. She smiled ruefully and led him to their bed. She talked about her feelings of guilt and loss and encouraged him to talk about his. They both had a good cry then made love like longtime companions.

They had their duties and their diversions while they waited for news from Aldanon. Dee had an old unused forge in the lower level of the Keep restored where she helped make swords for her 'Cloaks while Khelgar worked on chain mail. Dee gave the parts from the golem they had defeated and an odd rune-covered stone they had found to a delighted Grobnar, who set about repairing the construct. Shandra helped Orlen organize the spring planting. Casavir worked on the statue of Mielikki in his spare time when he wasn't working on duty rosters or training the 'Cloaks. In the time it took him to rough out the basic shape and sculpt the face, shoulders, and her right arm, his mentor had finished his statue of Chantea. Orlen built a small shed to serve as a shrine on the path to the fields and built another beside it for the eventual shrine to Meilikki. They held a dedication ceremony followed by a feast on the first of Tarsakh, commonly called Greengrass, with Orlen serving as a lay priest offering the prayers for a bountiful crop to Chantea. Dee promised Sand and Neeshka that shrines to Mystra and Tymora would follow.

Cillian awoke from his hibernation hungry as a bear who had just awakened from his hibernation. Aldanon had nothing to report for days, which stretched into tendays, and then a month and another. Dee was pleased with how the Keep was coming along. It looked like a real fortress now, not the "shitehole" ruin she first saw. All of her 'Cloaks now had good armor and weapons; the ones stationed at the gates or keeping watch on the wall wore plate. Life went on as it had, with only a vague threat of their enemy hanging over them. Looking back on this time later, Dee would curse herself for growing complacent and living as if she had all the time in the world.

The artist Pepin Pollo arrived with the portrait he had painted of Shandra, and Sir Nevalle observed that it was customary that Dee, as captain, sit for a portrait as well. She protested that she didn't have time but finally agreed as long as Cillian and Casavir pose on either side of her. Shandra's portrait was hung in her room though she groused that people would think her conceited to have a portrait of herself there and that she would much rather have a picture of her barn to look at, so Dee had it hung in the hallway outside Shandra's door instead. Dee's 'family' portrait was hung in the foyer of the Great Hall. As much as she had complained at the time, she was pleased enough with it that she commissioned a painting with all her companions, which he happily sketched out with only Bishop refusing to participate. He also sketched Neeshka lying nude on a fur throw for a painting commissioned to hang in the festhall. He happily returned to Neverwinter with the sketches and commissions for enough work for several months and a pouch full of gold in payment.

One morning after Dee had been needled again by Bishop after he came back from hunting about how she used to be a ranger and used to be free, she persuaded Casavir they should shirk their duties for once to take Cillian fishing at a secluded pond in the hills. It was about an hour away as the crow flies. Elanee had discovered it while she was flying in the hills around the Keep, which was becoming her favorite form of recreation. It took her no time at all to grab her pack, some bread and cheese from the kitchen, and a couple of fishing poles and leave before Kana had time to object.

The weather was still cool and changeable being early in the spring, but that didn't stop Cillian from plunging into the water to gorge himself on fat red-bellied trout. Dee looped Blossom's reins around the branch of a tree then cast her line and set the pole in the ground and quickly stripped out of her boots and her leather armor. Casavir watched her as she shed the rest of her clothing and flushed as he removed his hauberk and gambeson, looking around as if he expected the gnome, or worse, to spring suddenly out of the shrubbery. She slipped into the pond and gasped at the shock of the cold jolted her body then plunged under the water. Casavir decided it was good enough to strip down to his small clothes, though he didn't relish the discomfort of wearing them home wet. He picked his way barefoot over the stones and was about to dip a toe in the pond to test the water when Dee hauled herself out and ran over to him. He sighed in relief at the reprieve. "Finished already, my lady? Goodness, your lips are blue!"

She answered as she shook herself off and rubbed her arms, "Brrrr! Cold! Really cold! Too cold! Gods, I'm getting so soft!" She wrapped her arms around him as he did the same and murmured, "Mmmm, nice, you're warm and furry...you can warm my lips," as she pulled him into a kiss.

He he shivered at the erotic sensation caused by her cold body pressing against his, but they were out in the open in broad daylight! He glanced around and was going to protest that they mustn't, but they were indeed completely alone except for the horses grazing on the spring grass and the bear digging up tubers along the shore. He nuzzled her neck and ran a hand down her flank and squeezed a firm cheek as he murmured, "Yes, you're so soft...I like you soft. My lady, I think you had an ulterior motive in getting me up here to fish."

She gave him a coy smile. "Mmmm, and you're so very hard. I like you hard. 'Twas not entirely my intention, but 'tis a lovely idea."

His chuckled as his desire overcame his modesty. "It is indeed." He spread his cloak out then warmed her up in the best way he could think of. Afterwards as they spent a few lazy hours lying in the sun in one another's arms talking about everything and nothing, and forgetting all about fishing, she considered how far they had come that he could be like this with her.

But they weren't alone. Bishop had followed them and watched them from a vantage point in a broad-limbed oak tree. He took care to find a leafy perch out of sight and upwind of the bear and the horses and ordered Karnwyr to wait for him in a thicket of trees about a hundred paces away. It occurred to him to question what the hells he was doing here, but he cursed at himself and banished that thought. It wasn't crazy. It was all about survival—his. He had his orders to spy on the Captain's activities, though he knew this wasn't the kind of information he was supposed to obtain. He snorted as he watched them. His holiness was going to get his lily-white ass sunburned. He was positive _he_ was bigger, and he was confident as he watched that he was better too. He reckoned it would be no time at all before she wanted more and cast his holiness aside as she had done with him, or before the paladin cast her aside by declaring with false piety that she was coming between him and his god.

Bishop hadn't failed to notice while they camped on the way to Arvahn that she was the one who talked as if she assumed they would marry, but his holiness never said much about the matter. There was something there he couldn't put his finger on, and then it occurred to him— despite all his piety, it wasjust a tryst, whether he realized it or not. Just like his holiness had accused her of having with him a year ago. That was why the paladin kept his own room even though he shared her bed. Bishop thought the paladin had that fearful look of an animal caught in a snare. Not at this particular moment when she was kissing her way down his chest to his navel. He was just a man, after all. But Bishop was sure he had seen it before when she wasn't looking. He almost pitied him as much as he could feel pity for anyone and felt compelled to warn him before he fell for good. Not that _he_ wanted her back either, but he grinned at the thought of seeing her suffer when she learned the truth. He watched all he could stand then left so he could return to the Keep ahead of them.

They returned to the Keep before the sun set drowsy but content with a string of trout that Cillian had swatted out of the pond for Dee. She handed them to one of Wolf's minions to take to the cook. Dee told Casavir she was going to drop by Aldanon's study for her daily update. This had also become a habit with her. She expected the sage's usual long-winded, meandering explanation of their progress or rather lack thereof, and she wasn't disappointed. She was standing there nodding her head while her eyes glazed over, thinking that she was going to find a way to delegate dealing with him to Sand or Zhjaeve when one of the sage's research assistants, broke in.

He cleared his throat loudly enough to get even the sage's attention, and they turned to look at him curiously. "But Master Aldanon, don't you remember? We _do_ think we finally isolated the location of the Haven." There was a note of urgency in his voice.

Aldanon peered at him through rheumy eyes as if seeing him for the first time and replied with a touch of condescension. "My boy, don't be ridiculous! I would certainly know if we had discovered its location, wouldn't I?"

His assistant looked confused and said desperately, "Don't you remember, sir? You thought we should search areas of high magical emanations and cross reference that with shipping company manifests? And rule out for now any in populated areas? Don't you remember? You narrowed it down to one place this afternoon?"

Aldanon smiled brightly. "Yes, yes, I did, of course I did! Now don't just stand there dawdling! Be a good lad and fetch that map for the Captain. Off with you!"

Casavir came to see what was keeping Dee, and knowing very well what was keeping her, to rescue her from the ancient sage diplomatically. He found her sitting at a table in the library peering at a map while Aldanon stood on one one side of her reading a document and muttering something about the price of cheese and Gyven of the Road sat on the other side looking through a magnifying glass and pointing to something on the map. She beamed at him, her eyes shining with excitement. "Can you go find the others, love? Sand and Shandra especially. They're likely at the festhall already. I think we've found it!"

It took several days to make the arrangements, then a tenday more to reach the location, all the while praying they weren't following another false lead. Then decided against taking the horses all the way in the end because of the rough terrain they would have to cross to reach the valley where they suspected Jerro's Haven was located. Shandra told Dee she was nervous about her mother's tale of the requirement of a "drop of Jerro blood" to enter the structure, and Dee gave her a hug and tried to reassure her. "It's scary I know, but I wouldn't ask if we didn't need it. In fact, why don't you stay behind after you prick you finger here to give us a few drops of blood. I'm almost positive Sand has a spell to preserve it until we need it."

Shandra rolled her eyes and replied tersely, "And what if it has to be fresh blood or more than a few drops? Then you'll travel all the way there for naught. I've gone with you this far. I'm not about to stay behind with Qara and Grobnar now. Besides, I have to admit I'm curious to see my grandfather's old hideaway."

Bishop and Karnwyr scouted ahead. He was more surly than usual (if that was possible), so no one minded much that he was gone most of the day, nor that he kept his own company at night. They traveled into barren hills. They had one encounter with trolls and another with orcs, but the journey was uneventful after that. The area was oddly devoid of life, except for a few vultures that circled around in the distance. At last when they were beginning to wonder if Aldanon was mistaken, Bishop came back to camp with the news that he spotted some kind of stone wall in a valley a few hills to the east.

They found an imposing gray granite structure built into the surrounding hills. Sand looked through Dee's spy glass and warned, "I suspect it won't be as easy to enter the Haven as disarming a few traps and picking a few rusty locks, dear girl. I know I would certainly have some rather nasty surprises to keep away unwanted visitors if I was a recluse." They had expected the challenges and were prepared for a tough fight. But no one suspected that this was the last time they would see Shandra alive. At the worst Dee was afraid that more than a few drops of blood would be required to open the door. As if she had a premonition, she gave Shandra a worried hug and said, "You don't have to do this unless you want to. There's got to be a back door or an unguarded window or a kitchen midden we can get through," even as Shandra hugged her back then ran a dagger across the palm of her hand.

Shandra started to say "There, 'tis done. Now wha..." But her words were cut off as she vanished!

Dee cursed and demanded of the gatekeeper, "What the hells? Where did she go?" But as soon as the words were out of her mouth, she had a sudden sensation of nauseating dizziness and roaring in her ears as she found herself traveling through what looked like a dark tunnel. She hit the floor hard and blinked as her eyes adjusted to the dim light. Cillian was snarling at something. The others were there also picking themselves up off the floor. She called out, "Shandra?" and blinked again as got to her feet and beheld a familiar face, but not the one she was seeking. "Mephasm. I'm surprised to see you here."

The blue-skinned fiend smiled benevolently. "Greetings, my friend. I've been expecting you. And you've brought little Neeshka."

They talked for longer than Dee liked, but he revealed more than she expected, confessing he had deceived her at the Githyanki lair to gain his freedom. He was very curious to know how they got in, and was surprised to learn about Shandra being Ammon Jerro's granddaughter, but as an afterthought he added "Blood attracts blood, after all. Everything has happened countless times before and the resolutions are just as predictable."

Dee thought, "So much for his assurance that he knew we would cross paths again because he had seen it all before. But he hadn't seen Shandra. This fiend was not omniscient, she reminded herself. His politeness was so off putting she also had to remind herself of what he was. She focused instead on the barely visible fangs and lethal claws. Yet he not only agreed to help them, but also informed her of the kind of devils and demons they would also have to gain the cooperation of, four in all, to open the portals and enter the master's laboratory at the center of the haven. Neeshka leaned close and warned her to be careful in making an agreement. Her tail had swayed anxiously since he had greeted her like a long-lost relation, and she edged closer to Casavir when Mephasm promised coolly she would see him again.

Sand thought the layout of the place was brilliant. He explained that whoever "the master" was (and there was quite a bit of debate about that) he had designed his summoning circles so that a Baat'zu was imprisoned next to a Tanar'ri, bringing the Blood War here on a small scale and using the energy caused by the resulting friction to power his magic. "This was no mere court wizard that set up these circles, dear girl. We must be doubly on our guard."

Baalbisan was the exact opposite of Mephasm, and it didn't take Dee long after he insulted her for being female to see they would have to go to the others for help. Neeshka hissed, "Half-breed? Doubly weak as a female? I hope that circle fits you nice and tight, you bone-gnawing, ichor-drinking glutton!"

Dee lay a hand on Neeshka's arm to calm the angry tiefling. "You have a point, Neesh, but remember he can summon lesser fiends to fight for him even if he's trapped in that circle, and we can't afford the time to fight 'em. Come on, let's see if we can make a better bargain with the erinyes. I read a book on demonology of the Prior's after the attack on Lord Taverick that the Baat'zu will be more inclined to bargain than the Tanar'ri."

Casavir warned, "Yes, but you must be careful of any agreements you make with them. If there's any way at all of twisting the terms of an agreement to their benefit, they will use it."

The price of Hezebel's cooperation, learning the name of Baalbisan's matron to give her power over him, seemed like an impossible task. Hezebel suggested if they taunted him enough he would blurt out the name as a curse, and Dee muttered, "Yeah, making him really angry sounds like a way to end up a grease spot on the floor." She sighed as Casavir squeezed her shoulder and looked into his eyes. "Only one out of three, and I don't have any hope of getting Zaxis' cooperation either. Gods, Cas...We're not doing so well." The worst part was that Shandra was nowhere to be found. Dee tried to resist thinking of her at the mercy of whoever was the current master of the Haven. She was frantic to find Shandra, calling out to her in every room and every hallway. Cillian reared up and sniffed the air and told Dee he caught her scent faintly, but there was no sign of Shandra herself. She turned desperately to Casavir. "I'm beginning to think that we'll never find her."

He kissed the top of her head and took her hands and called on the power of Tyr to calm her. "Don't give in to the dark energy of this place and to despair, my lady. Such creatures as are bound here feed off strong feelings. Let us pray for Tyr's aid. I'm certain he will hear us even in this evil place." They ignored Bishop's derisive snort and prayed together. Khelgar put a hand on Dee's elbow and joined in. Neeshka, Sand, and Elanee joined them in spirit if not in words.

Casavir caressed her cheek. "Is that better?"

She nodded and smiled sweetly. "Aye, 'tis. Come on, let's go see our old friend Zaxis."

They smelled the hezrou long before they reached him; his scent was like a combination of rotting meat and the offal of a hundred otyughs with an unusual and unexpected floral note. But they ignored the stench as best they could and approached Zaxis' chamber with a new resolve. As they expected he had less than fond memories of them from the Githyanki lair, and to make things worse Neeshka again got into a shouting match with the fiend. Dee winced as the tiefling squealed, "Tanar'ri hindlicker!" and she grabbed Neeshka around the waist and pulled her bodily towards the door of the chamber. Dee muttered to Sand that this was an unfortunate time to learn that Neeshka was of Baat'zu blood. Sand rolled his eyes and answered that they leave the more vocal members of their party outside the next time they entered a fiend-filled labyrinth of death. Zaxis summoned three lesser hezrou to fight them before they could leave, but fortunately none smelled quite as bad as their master. They fought their way out into the hallway beyond.

As if in answer to their prayer, Dee heard Shandra call out, "Can you hear me?"

Dee peered into the dark hallway. "Shandra? Where are you?" Her companions looked confused as they looked for Shandra then turned back to Dee and looked at her like she was losing her mind. "I hear her in my head."

Dee could hear the fear in Shandra's voice. "I don't know. I keep teleporting around this place. Dee, be careful. This place is sealed by demons and devils. They say their lord is unbeatable, and I don't think they're lying!"

Dee tried to keep the panic out of her voice. "Just stay where you are. We'll try to get to you!" Dee relayed what she had heard to the others. "Everyone ready? Let's find the last two fiends." Later while she lay awake in the middle of the night she would curse herself for not asking Shandra which of the fiends she was near so they could retrace their steps and find her.

Gaining the cooperation of the pit fiend Koroboros was surprisingly easy, since he only required that they find his pet imp which had gone missing, and by chance they had already found and freed the creature. Like Mephasm, he was genial and helpful, though Dee knew that if he wasn't bound by his circle, he wouldn't likely hesitate to slaughter them as quickly as Zaxis would. "That's two," Dee whispered as he opened his portal. She had a feeling of dread as they approached the lair of the last fiend knowing that she was the last and that they were running out of options.

Just before the door they saw three beautiful gray-skinned women with bat-like wings who appeared to be waiting for them. Neeshka leaned close and whispered, "Succubi. Be careful, they bore easily and they can't be trusted to keep a pact."

Dee patted her shoulder. "Guess that means we have to entertain them and hope that doesn't include more fightin'. We need to save what we can for their master."

Blooden was as flighty a creature as Neeshka had warned. Her attention was immediately drawn to the males of the party, and Dee rolled her eyes and pulled Sand back as he straightened his robe, grinning inanely and striding towards the succubus who beckoned him with a finger. Dee expected to have to hold Bishop back too, but she glanced at him and saw him standing far back keeping his distance from any of the succubi, and for that brief moment she saw not lust, but fear in his eyes. Blooden pouted and turned her attention to Casavir instead. He bore her taunts stoically though Dee wondered what the fiend meant by his "guilt" and "doubt." Was it a devil's lies, or was there more to it? He only lost his composure when she suggested she could take on Dee's form if that pleased him more. He shouted angrily, "Mocking me I will tolerate, but mocking her I will not stand!" as his hand slipped to his war hammer.

The succubus threw her head back and moaned in ecstasy, "Ah...such passion!" Sand and Casavir had warned the fiends could feed on their emotions, and Dee fumed to think that this wench was taking that kind of pleasure from her man! Dee growled, "Deal with me, not with him. We're only here because we need you to open the portal so we can reach your master."

She narrowed her eyes at Dee, but then she saw Neeshka standing just behind her. She arched a delicate eyebrow and purred, "What have we here. You, my dear, have a most unusual bloodline, little tiefling, most unusual." She smirked at Neeshka like a cat that has trapped a mouse. "Your grandsire...you have already met him. What I fail to see is why he would allow his bloodline to be so diminished in producing you. There is no benefit for him that I can see. Perhaps you may ask him when you see him again."

Neeshka blinked. "He's here?" She considered the baat'zu they had encountered and remembered the one which had been particularly interested in her with a shudder.

But the succubus was already bored with Neeshka and turned to Dee with the same smirk. "And you...you also have a most unusual heritage as well, my dear. If only you knew how unusual..." The succubus closed her eyes. It may have been true, and Dee could feel herself wanting to ask more of the creature. Her voice was so very seductive. Too seductive. Dee shook her head. "Look, I've no time for this. We need to find your master so we can kill him and save our friend."

Blooden threw her head back and laughed melodically. "Oh that's rich! Kill him? _You_? Oh it's not possible. Most likely he will kill you. But I will help you hasten your deaths if you do something for me first."

Dee suppressed a sigh, though she had known there would be a price. "Go on then."

So after leading a fight of Koroboros' hell hounds against her minions, Blooden was so pleased that she not only kept her bargain, but she also gave them the name of Baal'bisan's matron as if she knew it was the knowledge they needed to gain the assistance of the erinyes. She cooed as they turned to leave, "We females must stick together."

They linked hands and jumped through the portal as soon as Hezebel opened it. Dee blinked as a wave of nausea swept over her again. She didn't know how anyone could stand to travel by teleportation regularly. She looked around the chamber, and to her relief as much as her dismay, Shandra wasn't there. No one was, but that wouldn't last. Suddenly a deafening clanging echoed through the laboratory. Mere heartbeats later, there was a blinding flash and _he_ was there. The one who murdered the lords in Blacklake, and Melia and the others who got in his way at the Moonstone Mask.

At the same moment, they shouted at each other, You!"

He growled ominously, "I don't know how you got in here, but you won't live long enough for me to worry about it. I see you've brought me a gift of the shards, including one lodged in your chest? Let me take them off your hands and off your corpse."

Dee snarled, "Only corpse around here is gonna be yours!"

They attacked with everything they had, but he had unbelievable resistance to most of their attacks, including Sand's most powerful spells and that monk trick that Khelgar did that Dee had seen make an opponent's heart explode. Her own swords barely wounded him. They might have been prop swords used by actors and not enchanted silver for all the damage they did. Still they pressed their attack until finally Neeshka got close enough for a backstab and he groaned and dropped to one knee. Later Dee would curse herself for not asking him then what he had done with Shandra Jerro. She told herself over and over again that if she had, if he had known she was there, Shandra might still be with them.

He glared at them. "You think you've beaten me? Fools! This fortress is the source of my power! Now you will die!" He stood straight, the runic tattoos on his head glowing bright as the sun. Dee heard Sand sigh "Oh my" before he began chanting a counter spell. Casavir sang a Tyrran battle prayer. With a few gestures from the warlock they were buffeted by a mighty wind that threw them around like leaves. There was no question of trying to fight him now. It was all Dee could do to keep her footing. She thought of Shandra and mentally asked her forgiveness. "I'm sorry Shandra. You were right, he's too strong. I've failed you."

Shandra answered, "You can't beat him. The only thing that can is blood being spilt—mine."

Dee shouted in horror, "Don't do it! There has to be another way!" as she lost her footing and slammed into the wall. She saw stars, and she tried to get her breath back as the warlock shouted he would turn the air in their lungs to fire.

Shandra said softly, "Too late. I'm not gonna let you die, not after all we've been through."

Dee and the warlock screamed "No!" simultaneously as she lost contact with Shandra and he felt his power fail, and he broke off his attack and leaped into the portal. Dee fell back and felt like she was choking, and some of her ribs were definitely broken. Her spectacles were lying across the room shattered. Cillian sat licking a wound on his flank. They all struggled to their feet. Sand's left arm was hanging awkwardly at his side, and Neeshka was carefully pouring a healing potion into Elanee's mouth. Bishop was kneeling beside Karnwyr, healing him. Blood was streaming from a wound on Casavir's head, though Dee could see the wound healing, as were her ribs, thanks to the _Ring of Regeneration _they both wore. Only Khelgar came through the attack relatively unscathed, using his monk training to go with the force of the wind rather than fight it. He broke out the healing potions he had in his rucksack and quickly passed them around. All of this took precious minutes, but it had to be done.

Elanee and Khelgar set Sand's shoulder as he drank a potion. "Dear girl, I don't think that warlock is the King of Shadows, but I'm grateful that something more compelling than murdering us caught his attention."

As soon as she could breathe again, Dee snatched her dropped short sword and limped to the portal. "I fear the thing that caught his attention was Shandra. Come on, we have to get to her!" She leaped through thinking of going to where Shandra was, and Casavir grabbed her arm and leaped in behind her. The others followed, but too late.

They came on the warlock standing over Shandra, her body burnt by magefire. Dee heard her last words, "I know, and I'm sorry, grandfather." Then she fell back and was still. Elanee and Dee went right to her side while Casavir and Khelgar went for the warlock who was muttering, "Grandfather? How?" Dee sobbed and pulled her onto her lap and forced her last healing potion into her blackened lips as she begged the gods to let her live. But Shandra was gone.

Elanee spoke in a horrified whisper. "Dee, I can't even feel her presence. Her spirit is no longer here!"

The warlock looked broken as he stared at them holding Shandra's body, but his defiance wasn't gone. The walls began to shake violently, threatening to collapse on them, and Dee was reminded of her nightmare of the falling stone. Regaining his composure he snarled at them, "Kill me and you'll bring this entire structure down on our heads. But enough of my power remains for us to teleport to safety if we go now!"

"We have no choice but to trust you. Cas, can you..." Dee gulped air as she fought back tears. Casavir wrapped his cloak around Shandra's body then picked her up as the warlock growled an incantation and they teleported back to the safety of the Keep.

She was laid in state in the temple of Tyr in a closed casket so everyone could pay their respects. She was the first one interred there in a crypt behind the altar, though Dee promised her she would bury her body at her farm when this was finished. Her death was sobering to them all. Dee had a simple stone shrine to the god of death, Kelemvor, set up near the temple of Tyr and placed candles there to light Shandra's way and left her favorite food as an offering for her wait in the god's queue. While she was doing this she tried not to think that Ammon Jerro might have sent her spirit to some of his allies in the hells.

The question they had been discussing when Sir Nevalle arrived was what to do with the warlock. Bishop and Neeshka were all for killing him right then and there. Bishop whispered, "Nobody has to know."

"Dee stared him in the eye and answered, "Yeah? Well, I would know. I won't have murder added to murder." She stood and stalked over to the warlock, who stared into the fire. "We need to talk, Jerro." It was at this moment that Sir Nevalle walked into the tavern. Dee saw him standing there waiting as she interrogated Ammon Jerro, but he could wait.

Sir Nevalle held up a gloved hand up to stop her as she tried to escape to the quiet of her room. "Captain, Lord Nasher has ordered you to Neverwinter. I don't know if you've heard—Fort Locke has fallen. You are to report to Castle Never at once. I'm having your bag fetched from your quarters and your horse made ready as we speak."

Dee blinked at the knight through puffy, red-rimmed eyes. "I can't leave the Keep right now. You don't know what's happened..."

Sir Nevalle cut her off. He felt a pang of guilt because of her obvious grief, but he had his orders, and he couldn't say anything to her without revealing the purpose of their journey. Everything had been arranged, and the court operated on a tight schedule. So much was happening so fast, and so much still had to be done. He decided to bluff despite a feeling of guilt, annoyed that she had the audacity to refuse a direct order from Lord Nasher. He wouldn't think of doing such a thing. He puffed out his chest and replied sternly, "Very well, Captain. However, might I remind you that this is Lord Nasher's Keep, not yours, and you serve here at his pleasure! If you disobey Lord Nasher's direct order, this Keep can have a new captain by twilight."

She laughed bitterly and put her hands on her hips. "Oh really? That better not be a threat. By all means, find some other fool to take it on. I've just laid my best friend in a tomb, and I don't aim to add another!" There was a time not long past when she would have answered his threat with a fist right in the middle of his perfect teeth and told him to consider that her resignation, but she had grown up a bit since then.

He was taken aback, not having expected her to call his bluff. Her earlier words sunk in and he noted the absence of the "squire's squire" who was always at her side. The faces of the two squires he had lost in Neverwinter's service flashed before his eyes, one his brother's son lost at his first battle. He softened his tone and replied with a new sympathy. "I spoke hastily. The loss of Fort Locke worries me greatly, and I fear this Keep will be next if you're not prepared. Captain, I didn't intend to threaten you, but Lord Nasher has ordered you to Neverwinter at once, and as your lord, he must be obeyed."

Her shoulders slumped and she sighed and put a hand on his shoulder. "No, please forgive me, Sir Nevalle. You are right; I agreed to serve at Lord Nasher's will, and there is much more at stake here than my own loss. But must I come alone?" She gave him a pleading look, then looked longingly at Casavir then at her other companions, who were coming up behind them, their curiosity overcoming their grief.

Casavir stepped up beside her and wrapped his arm around protectively. "Sir Nevalle, the Captain is bound to me in the sight of Tyr, and we are...were to be..._will_ be married in the fall, if she will have me. Therefore I claim the right of a husband to accompany her."

Sir Nevalle looked up at the paladin. He had known Casavir since they were schoolboys. He was another distant relation, an overly-tall, ill-dressed, shy, graceless boy who had kept to himself at the few social gatherings he attended with his spinster aunt or at school. He only came out of his shell on the playing field where he was a natural athlete, and now from what he knew of him as a man, he was most in his element on the battlefield. He thought they were a good match though, with strengths to balance the other's weaknesses. He said sympathetically, "You would indeed have the right by law if you _were_ married, but you are not. Therefore, I must abide by Lord Nasher's orders." He was silent for a moment as he thought. "I do suppose...you could go to Neverwinter for some business of your own and wait for Captain Farlong in the gallery at Castle Never. You are free people, after all."

They stepped outside, and as the stable boy helped Sir Nevalle onto his horse, Dee turned to Casavir, kissed him fiercely, and whispered, "Yes." He blinked in confusion and then seized her as he comprehended her meaning. They shared another quick kiss, then she let him give her a leg up into the saddle. "I will marry you. Mayhap not in the fall in West Harbor out of my father's house, but somewhere." Sir Nevalle cleared his throat to get her attention then spurred his horse and galloped away, and she nudged Blossom with her knees and followed.

Neeshka grinned at Casavir and actually got close enough to touch his arm. "Come on then. I have a sudden desire for some new clothes and Duncan's stew. Khel and I'll get our packs while you get the horses, right Khel? Who else is coming?"


	27. Knight, Interrupted

Chapter 27 Knight, Interrupted

Usual disclaimer and note: All of the characters other than a bear and paladin lovin' ranger belong to Obsidian and a whole lot of other people. A few snippets of dialog are paraphrased from the NWN2 OC.

I've taken some of the aspects of the knighting ceremony from various web sites and books such as _Life in a Medieval Castle._

Dee nudged Blossom and rode closer to Sir Nevalle. The knight pulled back lightly on his horse's reins and looked at her quizzically, and she whispered, "I saw a flash of somethin' up ahead, and that shady bend in the road is a likely place for an ambush."

He nodded and replied quietly, "I must speak to Lord Nasher about extending patrols out here. I suppose two riders would make a tempting target even if we are armed." He took the lead again, wishing that he had insisted she don chain mail at the very least instead of her leather brigandine, nudging his horse and edging his sword out of its sheath so he could take the lead and protect her. But then he thought better of it. She was no frail damsel needing his protection. He had seen her on the practice field, and he reminded himself that Lord Nasher had decided she was worthy to become his peer.

Dee had spent time over the winter training with her Master of Horse, learning to guide Blossom with her knees to leave her hands free to fight. They had set up a gauntlet of practice dummies in one of the fields and made a contest out of trying to score the most hits in the shortest time. Casavir usually won because none of their horses were as aggressive in a charge as Thunder. But she was satisfied they could all fight mounted if need be.

She looped the reins around the pommel and casually slipped her hands to her sword hilts and followed the knight. They rode around the bend and came on what appeared to be a merchant's cart in a rut beside the road. A team of gray mules grazed placidly in the grass nearby. Two burly chainmail clad men, both armed with long swords, had just replaced a broken wheel which still lay in the road, as the elderly merchant, huddled in his cloak, looked on. Was he huddled against the evening chill, or was he hiding weapons under his cloak? She had learned to be cautious and tried to control her caution so it didn't become paranoia.

They rode up alongside, and Sir Nevalle asked graciously, "My good man, do you require any assistance?"

He looked up at the knight and smiled broadly, revealing a mouth full of gold teeth. "Thank you, my lord! I think the lads got it, but mayhap you could help us push it back on the road, and we'll pray to Waukeen that we make it to Neverwinter before the cottle pin gives out again."

Sir Nevalle swung his leg over and dismounted gracefully and knelt to check the wheel. He nodded at Dee as one of the guards fastened the broken wheel under the cart. Dee peered into the brush looking for anyone hiding there then swung her leg over and slid off Blossom and joined the others behind the cart to push. Four of them made short work of it, and soon the merchant was leading the reluctant mules back to their harnesses.

Dee leaned close to the knight before they mounted their horses. "Could we escort them to the city?"

Sir Nevalle replied curtly, "He has two guards, and we simply do not have the time. I'm sorry, but we must get to Neverwinter. Let's be off!" He thrust his foot into the stirrup and swung into the saddle and spurred his horse on before Dee could argue, and Dee rolled her eyes and muttered, "Wish the hells I knew what was so damned important that we can't observe common courtesy." She called an apologetic "Good eve" to the merchant, mounted her horse and nudged her to catch up to Nevalle.

They would have to stop before long anyway as evening was fast approaching and heavy clouds were gathering on the horizon, threatening rain before the night was out. A fast horse could make the trip from Crossroad Keep to Neverwinter in just a day, but they had gotten a late start. Dee had listened for the sound of horses coming behind them, but they had too much of a head start for Casavir or any of her companions to catch up, and even if they did, she knew he would keep his distance out of respect for Nevalle's mysterious orders.

They didn't stop until a few hours more had passed, far into the evening, and by then they were picking their way along by the light of an ingenious lamp Sand had crafted by casting a _Light_ spell on a coin, then a _Permanency_ spell, then putting the coin in a silver tube with removable caps on the end, which focused the light in a narrow beam. It wasn't perfect, but Selune was waning tonight and it beat risking the horses stumbling in the dark. Nevalle lay out their bedrolls as Dee led the horses to a nearby stream to water them and brushed them down. It was difficult to stand watch when there were only the two of them, and she had sent Cillian back to Meilikki's care. Dee offered to take first watch; the god of sleep had been a stranger to her since Shandra's death. They put up an oilcloth tarp to provide cover from the rain and shared a simple meal of cold venison, cheese, and bread packed for them by the cook.

Dee walked a circuit of their campsite until Selune's crescent was high above the horizon. She knelt beside the knight and put her hand on his shoulder to awaken him. He grinned and reached for her arm and mumbled something in his sleep. For a fleeting moment, Dee could have sworn he said "Torio." She arched an eyebrow, but that notion was too ridiculous for words. Everyone knew he was more than Nasher's right arm, though there were rumors whispered around that his being sent to babysit her at Crossroads Keep signaled a cooling in their relationship. She waited until he had relieved himself and returned to their camp then slipped into her bedroll as he stretched and took a quaff of water.

She finally fell into an exhausted and thankfully dreamless sleep from which he awakened her far too soon just at dawn. She murmured, "Cas, where's my kiss..." then blushed profusely as she opened her eyes and saw Sir Nevalle smirking at her and realized where she was. She stretched the sleep from her limbs and joined him in a quick breakfast of bread, apples, and cheese, and then they washed their faces and cleaned their teeth in the stream. She readied their horses for the road while he broke down camp. He had changed into a spotless tabard, though it wouldn't be spotless by the time they reached the city, she thought wryly.

She looked at him then at her own mud-stained clothes. "Sir Nevalle, I was hopin' that I would have time to bathe and change my clothes at my uncle's tavern before we go to Castle Never. I don't want to put on my clean tabard until we reach the city, and I only have the two." She thought, "Unlike the dozen you no doubt have stashed in your _Magic Bag_."

He said cryptically, "You will have time to bathe. It's been arranged."

She shrugged. "I don't usually pack anything but clean small clothes and socks and a change of shirt and trewes in my travel pack, and I don't know if what I have is fine enough to wear for an audience with Lord Nasher. Will I have time to go by the shops?"

He smiled tightly. "That can wait, Captain. I sent Wolf with a letter for Kana explaining the reason for your absence and also a note to your chamberlain to pack something suitable."

They arrived late in the morning on a bustling market day. He looked at the great clock in the tower near the Dolphin bridge as they waited to cross and muttered, "Excellent. We're a bit early." It was strange speaking casually with him as they rode slowly through the crowded city streets. Conversation had been nearly impossible considering the pace he had set though she wasn't in a mood for it anyway, and even when they rested, there hadn't more than a perfunctory exchange between them before they each surrendered to sleep.

Dee felt eyes on her and looked around until she spotted a tall woman with short pale hair, paler even than hers, so pale it was nearly white. She wore the armor of a warrior, a great sword on her right hip, and had a regal bearing with distinct aasimar markings on her face. Dee acknowledged her scrutiny and nodded in silent reply before asking him, "Do you know that woman over there? I'd guess she's a paladin from the looks of her, but I've not seen her before."

Sir Nevalle glanced in the direction she indicated. "No, I can't say I've ever seen her before either. Why do you ask?"

"I don't know. I I have a funny feeling is all, and she's been staring pretty intently at me. Or mayhap she's staring at you." She chuckled as he snorted but ran his hand through his hair. They rode on, but she couldn't put the woman out of her mind as they traveled.

They rode past a merchant who sold men's clothing. She muttered, "Oh that reminds me, I need to buy Cas a new cloak." With those words she was suddenly overcome by a few loud sobs followed by a cascade of tears. These sudden storms of grief had passed over her from time to time as suddenly as a spring shower since Shandra's death, and they ended just as quickly. Sir Nevalle rode closer to her and patted her shoulder uncomfortably. Dee composed herself as pedestrians gawked at them, and they rode on. She explained briefly how Shandra had been wrapped in Casavir's cloak as they fled Jerro's Haven, and now it served as her shroud as well. "I..it was awful. I wanted to lay her out proper, but her body was burnt and already...decomposing and sticking to the cloak. So we wrapped her back up in it and lay her in the coffin as she was."

He patted her shoulder again with less obvious discomfort as his eyes clouded with painful memories. "I too have used a few cloaks to cover fallen comrades. The last time I used one to cover Melia...I didn't want anyone to see her like that. She had been so beautiful...She was badly burned too. I've never seen anything like it." He blinked then as he suddenly recalled where he had seen, or rather heard, a description that matched the stranger Dee had been arguing with at the tavern. He sat up with a start. "My gods! That stranger in the inn. That was he! The very warlock leading the fiends who killed her!"

Dee nodded as they turned into Castle Never's stables. "Yes, the same. He was tossing us around his inner sanctum like so many leaves in the wind when I caught a good look at him as I slammed into the wall, and I realized that he and Shandra had the same eyes. Funny thing to think about when you're just about to be murdered, but I did. Turns out it was Ammon Jerro himself!" She explained what she had learned about the former court wizard and the reason why he was joining their campaign rather than rotting in the gaol awaiting trial, as he should be by rights. "I don't like it, but Zhjaeve says we can't hope to defeat the King of Shadows without using the powers granted by the Ritual of Purification, and since the shadow reavers destroyed the last statue in the swamp and Jerro possesses a portion of the ritual's power..."

Sir Nevalle nodded grimly as he dismounted and slung his rucksack over his shoulder. "I see, and you are right. We need him, at least for now. I must inform Lord Nasher of this development. Keep his identity and what you've told me to yourself, however. Otherwise the families of his victims will undoubtedly press Lord Nasher to bring him to justice, and I fear he will feel compelled to do so. There are far too many on the Council, the majority I'm afraid, who are not convinced of the threat of the King of Shadows and think we should be paying more attention to finishing the rebuilding from the war with Luskan, or making sure we are protected from a future attack through forming solid alliances."

He handed his reins to a stable girl and indicated that Dee was to do the same. She handed Blossom's reins over, gave her a fond pat, shouldered her rucksack and followed. She wondered why they were going in through the back entrance, but she figured the fastidious knight wanted to clean up before their audience with Lord Nasher as much as she did, and probably more so. They entered the castle through an entrance Dee had never seen, walking through the stables, then through a small practice yard bordered by a kitchen garden, then through the scullery, where the startled cooking staff halted in their work and watched them as they passed. He sent a serving girl to inform Lord Nasher's chamberlain they had arrived and led Dee to a narrow iron spiral staircase that Dee guessed was used by servants to travel out of sight between the levels of the castle.

They climbed down a level into the basement. This floor was used for cold storage of meats and the creamery as well as providing housing for some of the servants. Dee imagined the dungeon was probably a level lower still, and there were rumors that Lord Never's tomb was somewhere below too, but the way to it was forgotten. Sir Nevalle took a candle from a shelf and led her down a dark, cool hallway then finally paused before a rough wooden door. He knocked once then lifted the latch and gestured for her to enter.

She was beginning to think he hadn't led her here solely to wash and change her clothes and swallowed nervously before she entered the small candlelit chamber, which contained a narrow bed and a bath filled with steaming water. Pungent incense smoldered on a brazier. One of the servants was pouring a vial of oil into the water, and her newest squire sister, a fresh-faced blond girl of only seventeen, was waiting beside the tub blushing and grinning at her. Dee swallowed again and stared wide-eyed at Sir Nevalle. "What does this mean?" One of her squire brothers had been knighted last fall, and so she was acquainted with the trappings of the ritual. But surely this wasn't for her!

He smiled coyly then answered her in a booming voice that would make a herald proud. "Yes, this is for you, Squire Dierdre Farlong. His Excellency, Lord Nasher Alagondar is pleased with your service in restoring his lands at Crossroads Keep and has thus seen fit to bestow upon you the honor of knighthood." He knelt and opened a chest and withdrew a long sword with an ornate jeweled hilt and a folded cloak and handed them to her. "These are yours to wear during the ceremony as symbols of your new station. The finest weavers of the city create these cloaks, and you will find it bears many useful enchantments." He took a breath before he continued. "This cloak is lined with red, so that you may remember always that your blood may be shed in Neverwinter's service. Squire Jessime is here to assist you with the bath, which symbolizes the washing away of your past. I sent word that your chamberlain was to pack your best white chemise, which you will don after your bath to wear during your vigil as a symbol of humility. White is also worn to symbolize purity of mind and purpose."

Jessime stepped forward and handed her some new black hose and a shield-shaped silk banner painted with her heraldry and said her part shyly, "Take these as gifts from your fellow squires. The banner will be hung in Lord Nasher's great hall along with those of your peers. Take these hose too. They are black as reminders of death that awaits us all and...and..." She bit her lip and blushed deeper and shot a nervous look at Sir Nevalle then blurted out, "Oh! And that you walk on the ground you will lie under." She curtsied and stepped back with her hands behind her back staring intently at the floor.

Dee stared, dumbstruck and took them and set them on the chair beside the bath. She finally found her voice and asked Sir Nevalle, "But...why me? I don't deserve this honor."

He would have agreed with her not too very long ago, but since he had been stationed at the Keep, he had observed a growing grace in the squire, certainly volumes more than she possessed when he first met her at her uncle's tavern before her trial. "Lord Nasher Alagondar has deemed you worthy of this honor, and that is all that matters. As a matter of fact, to deny this honor is a form of treason. Low treason, but treason nonetheless. Therefore, take your bath, and Squire Jessime will lead you to the chamber where your vigil is to be held. There you will listen to the advice of the peers of the realm, and they will instruct you on chivalry and the duties of your new station. After your vigil, you will be taken to a meditation chamber to change and spend time in prayer until we come for you for the ceremony." He bowed sharply and turned on his heel and left before she had a chance to say another word.

She stared at the door still stunned at his words until her sister squire touched her arm and cleared her throat to get her attention. Dee lay her spectacles down on top of the chest, undressed, and stepped into the wooden tub and slowly eased herself into the hot water. Dried rose petals and lavender buds and oil scented with jasmine had been added to the water, and she lay back and closed her eyes breathed in the scent deeply. It was delightful. She washed her hair with a bar of fine silky soap that had an exotic smell she couldn't identify, but she thought that now she knew what "luxurious" was.

She could have stayed there all day, but the servant was waiting with a bucket of water to rinse her, and her sister squire was standing by with a towel, so she dunked her head under then stood and poured the bucket over herself and got out. She reluctantly accepted their help in drying off and putting on her clean chemise (her only long chemise, bought to wear under the white robe she wore at her trial). Then they combed her hair, making her feel rather foolish the whole time. She pulled on the hose and fastened the garters and her sister squire smiled at her and opened the door. "Are you ready? Unc..I mean _Sir Nevalle _is probably tapping his foot and watching the waterclock."

Dee chuckled lightly. Now that she thought about it, the girl had hair the same color as his, and she saw a slight resemblance. "I'm sure he went directly to his chambers to take his own bath."

Nevalle had indeed gone at once to the wing in which the members of The Nine had rooms to stay in when required to be at court. He took a quick bath, which had been prepared upon word of his arrival, then dressed in the formal clothing which had been laid out for him and strapped on his ceremonial sword. He looked himself over in the full length mirror and arranged an errant lock of his hair then left his room and strode down the hallway. He pulled on a sconce, which opened a secret door to a passage only the Nine and a few trusted servants knew of that led to Lord Nasher's privy chambers. He rapped sharply twice on the door and slipped in after Nasher bade him enter. Lord Nasher was sitting at his desk in a gold brocade dressing gown signing a scroll which his scribe then sprinkled with fine sand to dry the ink. He smiled at Nevalle and signed another scroll. "That will be all, Travin." His scribe mumbled, "Yes, your Grace," gathered up the scrolls, bowed to them both, and hastily left them alone.

They looked at one another for several heartbeats before Sir Nevalle broke the silence. "She is being given the bath now, my Lord. There has been an unusual turn of events concerning the former court wizard Ammon Jerro of which you should be aware." He briefed Nasher on what Dee had reported to him as he poured them both a goblet of wine then handed one to him.

Lord Nasher sat back at his desk and stroked his beard thoughtfully, listening until Sir Nevalle finished. "So. The former court wizard returns from the dead. I always suspected there was more to Jerro than met the eye. He seemed to be altogether lacking ambition, which set him apart from the rest of the court, at least to me. You were correct to counsel her to keep his identity to herself, though I will see him brought to justice once we have eliminated the threat of the King of Shadows. The Council is still more interested in my making a political marriage with the Lords' Alliance to give us an ally against Luskan's machinations, even with the news that Fort Locke has fallen to the undead army."

Nevalle sipped his wine quietly, glad that he had three elder brothers and two sisters who had provided his mother with ample grandchildren and heirs, and also that as first of the Nine and a knight of Neverwinter he now outranked his eldest brother and thus couldn't be compelled into a beneficial political or social union. "Have you had any more reports of the status of the Mere of Dead Men and Fort Locke?"

Lord Nasher walked to a table covered with a map of the region. "Just that Commander Tann fell as he and a score of Greycloaks fought back the army of undead to allow the rest of his forces to escape. The undead army seems to have vanished as quickly as they struck, but there are parts of the High Road that are impassable now. Still from plotting the points where they have been seen, his army seems to be headed directly towards Neverwinter via Crossroad Keep. Most of the survivors of Tann's troops have made their way here and have been reassigned. As a matter of fact, I've ordered a squad to Crossroad Keep to augment the Captain's forces. She will have to finish the fortifications to make a final stand to protect Neverwinter if we can find no other way to defeat the King of Shadows."

Sir Nevalle walked across the room and looked over his shoulder at the map. Lord Nasher turned and smiled at him. "I've missed your counsel, my dear boy." He put his arm around his knight and they gazed at one another for a few moments before he drew him into a kiss, which the knight resisted for only a moment before he returned it." Lord Nasher pulled back and looked him in the eye. "You're not still angry with me?"

The knight shrugged and pulled away. "No, but I resolved that if it is supposed to be finished between us, then we can't very well resume every time we're alone."

Lord Nasher caressed his cheek. "Don't believe for a moment that I want this, Gilles. You know how I feel about you. But they are right; I must make an alliance for the stability of Neverwinter and my lands. If I am to be married...once I am married I cannot dishonor my vows to my wife, no matter how much I care for you. Neither do I want to doom some poor woman to a lonely, loveless marriage because she had the misfortune to be born into a noble family. There's no honor in that."

Nevalle nodded grimly. "Yes, there's no honor in that. But must you marry? Surely there are other ways of cementing an alliance. You also might adopt an heir to protect your lands, Nash. There are orphans aplenty from the war. Captain Farlong has taken in a number of street urchins as well as some from the workhouse, and I've seen that a few of them have real potential to become something other than laborers or fodder for Axle's gang. In fact, there's a sweet little girl of six who came with a family from the workhouse I'm thinking of fostering before the Captain turns her into a blacksmith."

Lord Nasher smiled at the thought of Sir Nevalle as a foster father. "Perhaps. I'm afraid the nobility would not accept the child unless he or she was high born, although I know some of them could be persuaded the child was my bastard." He put his arms around Nevalle and kissed him softly, and then with more passion before he drew back to gaze into his eyes. "I don't want this; a marriage is not the only way to form an alliance, but it is the most convenient not to mention the most binding. You have always had no shortage of admirers at court, male and female, and I know you enjoy the attentions of both. I told you several times before and I still say you deserve to find someone who can make you happy and not waste your youth on an old man."

Nevalle smirked at him in a way that Lord Nasher found adorable, and he knew it too. "And yet, every time I return I'm back in your arms and your bed within a few days. You're not that old either, Nash. But you should be careful what you wish for, Your Grace."

Lord Nasher raised an eyebrow and drew back. "Oh? Have you met someone at Crossroads Keep other than that festhall boy you told me about? Is that why you're so distant? Don't tell me it's my soon-to-be knight. I can see your mother's horrified expression now."

Nevalle threw his head back and laughed loudly. "Oh Nash, that's too much! I can _hear _her now-'But my darling, she will _never_ do. She's just so...so...rustic.' And she is, truth be told. No, I have no interest in the Captain, and she's become affianced to the paladin Casavir of Tyr. I must admit though I do admire her fine long legs, rather like a thoroughbred horse. One can tell that both her parents were highborn from that alone."

Lord Nasher scowled and drained his wine and poured another goblet for each of them. Nevalle could be such a snob, the one thing about him he found irritating. At times it felt like a dig at his own humble origins. He returned to the subject. "You say it's someone you've met, and so that rules out the fair Sand. If not the Captain, then who? Kana or one of the sergeants? Not one of the Greycloaks?"

Nevalle chuckled dryly. "Very well, I will tell you because you will never guess. I scarcely believe it myself, but I've discovered that Torio Claven is the most fascinating woman. We were drawn together at first out of mutual boredom and loneliness, and we have developed something more than a friendship. She's very intelligent and a fantastic lover, but then she was well trained in the brothels of Luskan. Of course we both know there can be no future together, but for now it's a diversion for both of us...and now _you_ look jealous. That vein across your temple is throbbing."

Nasher frowned because the way he talked about her did stir the flames of jealousy, and he hated being called on it. "Yes, and I suppose I have no right to be, unlike you." He sighed and leaned his head against Nevalle's. "It's not serious then?"

"Not really, no, as I said. Besides, as interesting as she is, she's lacking a vital piece of anatomy that I don't think I could live without. And you are not betrothed yet?" He smirked in that adorable way again.

Nasher chucked him under the chin. "No, I am not yet, thank the gods. Fortunately for me several factions have each put forth a candidate. None of them will yield to the other, and therefore I'm doing my best to pit them against each other. Perhaps the King of Shadows' next attack will persuade them that we have more serious things to worry about." Lord Nasher gazed at him for a few moments and walked to the doors to his chamber and threw the bolts. "Neither of us would be expected to attend her vigil."

Nevalle chuckled as he unstrapped his sword belt. "Indeed not, that's Grayson's job. I've done my part, and if you made an appearance, it would only serve to revive the gossip that your newest knight is your bastard and that is why you have elevated her so quickly."

Nasher sighed deeply as he threw the last bolt. "I can tell you that her mother wasn't even a diversion for me. A woman I admired yes, a distraction yes, but that was all. It's simply jealousy and snobbery both. But people are drawn to Captain Farlong, and believe in her, and through her, in Neverwinter. She has earned this honor." He turned and leaned against the door and watched him undress. "I resisted your charms for a very long time after you were squired no matter how much you tried to seduce me. Remember that time I came on you bathing in that pond, the water just covering you?"

As he turned, Sir Nevalle was sitting on his bed, having already removed his boots and most of his clothing and was laying them neatly across a chair. Nevalle laughed as he folded his shirt so that it would remain wrinkle-free. "Yes, I nearly froze waiting for you to come and 'surprise' me there. You acted as if you had no interest in me for a maddeningly long time, though your eyes betrayed you time and again."

"That was for your benefit. I deliberately waited to approach you until after your knight submitted your name to the Council of Peers' list for elevation to knighthood. I didn't want anyone to say that the honors you have received were not earned, though there has been spiteful gossip anyway. But some people always want to believe the worst about others." He walked back across the room and untied his belt and let his dressing gown fall to the floor. "Well now. We have a few hours until the ceremony. How would you suggest we pass it?"

Nevalle leaned back on his elbows on the bed wearing only his small clothes, and Nasher's eyes traveled appreciatively over his perfectly sculpted body, pleased that he still shaved his chest. "You are altogether beautiful. How could I ever give you up," he murmured as he lay beside him. He nipped his earlobe then worked his way across his neck to the hollow of his throat before he found his perfect lips again and kissed him roughly. Then he reacquainted himself inch by inch with the rest of him. "Very well. I'm going to do everything in my power to see that I don't have to."

Nevalle gasped as his Lord reached a particularly sensitive spot and whispered, "We'll probably regret this later, but for now let us enjoy what time we have together."

Meanwhile, Dee was led into a chamber upstairs where a number of people she recognized both from court and from Melia's memorial service were milling around talking and eating. There was a table against the wall laden with platters bearing an assortment of fruits, vegetables, roasted meats, bread, and cheeses, and she tried to ignore the rumbling the sight caused in her stomach. The dull roar of conversation became an awkward silence as everyone realized she was being led into the room, and she blushed because she felt like everyone was staring at her (and they were). She had never felt more naked as she did at that moment standing there in her chemise and her stocking feet, except at her trial. To her relief, Sir Grayson smiled broadly and walked towards her but was beaten by Judge Oleff, who kissed her cheek and led her to a high backed wooden chair against the far wall.

She sat stiffly as Sir Grayson introduced her to the people assembled there, though it was unlikely that any of them didn't know who she was. Her squire sister handed her a plate of food that she picked at absently as she talked, or rather, was talked to. There was so much advice offered to her, some of it conflicting, that she had trouble taking it all in. In addition, several calling cards were pressed into her hand along with invitations to parties and balls as it was the beginning of the social season, but she knew she would likely be too busy at the Keep to worry about suitable gowns.

An imposing elderly woman who looked like her heavily-painted face was frozen in a perpetual sneer waddled up to Dee. She was wearing a voluminous wide-sleeved purple silk gown and one of the new Waterdhavian cone-shaped hats covered with veils that was so long that Dee wondered how she managed to stand without being pulled backwards. Dee knew who she was; she had seen the dowager Lady Nevalle before at court and at the _Mask._ She peered at Dee for so long Dee fought an uncomfortable urge to look down to see if she had spilled something down the front of herself. At the same time she tried not to laugh as it occurred to her how much Sir Nevalle favored his mother, and she had a wicked thought flash through her mind of him standing there in heavy make-up and woman's garb.

After several minutes of scrutiny Lady Nevalle stated haughtily, "As hard as I look I see little of your mother in you, girl. Perhaps that is a good thing. She sang at my eldest son's wedding, as I recall. Perhaps...you have her eyes, and the same big teeth. You must take after your father, whoever _he_ might be."

Dee fought the urge to reply in kind to the rudeness. She gritted her teeth, smiled sweetly and said, "Yes, so I've been told."

"You are to come to tea at highsun on the morrow, and I believe I heard you are betrothed to a paladin of Tyr. You may bring him as well." It wasn't as much an invitation as a command. She turned on her heel just as Sir Nevalle had done earlier and walked off without another word, and before Dee had a chance to say anything in reply. It wasn't an invitation to high tea but early tea, and Dee knew enough now to understand the difference, but to the minor nobility and to the social climbing merchant families it was a great honor for someone of Lady Nevalle's status to condescend to notice her so soon, or so they leaned near and whispered to her after Lady Nevalle was safely out of earshot.

After sitting there on display for what seemed like an eternity but really was only about an hour, Sir Grayson took her hand and led her to her feet. "Come, squire, it's time for you to spend some time alone with your gods in contemplation of the path you are about to take." He leaned close and whispered as they walked out of the room and down the hallway, "I believe Tyr would understand if you took a nap after your prayers, squire. You look like you could use one, not to mention a haircut, though there isn't enough time to fetch my hairdresser before they call for you. Pity." He ruffled her hair and winked at her and closed the door, leaving her alone in a small guest room she knew must be close to the Great Hall.

Her things had been brought up to this room; her boots were polished and clean clothes—new clothes, she realized—were laid out for her on the bed. She slipped out of the chemise and packed it away then dressed. She sat on the bed and tried to clear her thoughts, wishing she could have Casavir and Cillian with her. She opened her mind to Meilikki and to Tyr and whispered, "I really don't deserve this, and I don't understand why I've been set on this path. Surely 'tis not only because of this shard in my chest." But she was met with silence; there was no repeat of her experience before her trial by combat. She lay back on the bed after a while and drifted off to sleep.

All too soon her sister squire knocked on the door. "Squire Farlong, it's nearly time." She stood and removed her long sword and strapped the ceremonial blade onto her sword belt in its place along with her short sword, fastened the clasp on her cloak, and took up the rear in a procession made up of Sir Grayson and most of his squires that wound its way to a side door in the audience chamber. Her banner was carried in front of the procession on a long pole to be presented to Lord Nasher.

The Great Hall was filled with many of the people who had attended her vigil, and a good many well-dressed people who hadn't, though Lady Nevalle's ridiculous hat was nowhere to be seen in the throng. The gallery was full of people who cheered when they entered. She looked up and spotted Marshall Cormick and Captain Brelaina, then she saw her uncle pushing his way towards the front. She spotted Casavir's beautiful smile and fought the urge to wave at him. She couldn't believe how much she missed him after only a day. But their relationship had progressed beyond the awkward innocence at the beginning to a level of comfortable experience.

Neeshka and Sand were standing just behind him, and she could just make out the shiny top of Khelgar's head. Sir Grayson bowed and handed her off to Sir Nevalle, who she noticed looked very relaxed. He took her arm and led her to stand before Lord Nasher, who looked down on them all from where he sat on his throne. He stood as Sir Nevalle indicated the cushion on the floor where she should kneel. A herald called for the assembly to be silent so they might hear the words of Lord Nasher Alagondar. The hall became hushed, and Dee knelt, drew the ceremonial sword from its scabbard, and held it out across her arms, surrendering it to him. He would take it from her and use it to dub her a knight, then hand it back to her to complete the ceremony.

Just as Lord Nasher was about to open his mouth to speak, the silence was suddenly broken by the sound of chanting coming from an alcove to the right and above the throne and a mere heartbeat later, followed by a deafening clanging alarm that echoed through the chamber. This was followed immediately by the clang of metal slamming into marble as portcullises dropped from hidden recesses cutting off the great hall from the spectator galleries and sealing the entrances. Sir Nevalle looked around wildly, and Dee instinctively stood and raised the ceremonial sword and drew her short sword. Nevalle gasped, "My gods, it's the ancient alarm! We're under attack! I never thought I would see this day!"


	28. Knight, Resumed

Chapter 28 Knight, Resumed

Usual disclaimer and note: All of the characters other than an occasional NPC, a bear, and paladin lovin' ranger belong to Obsidian and a whole lot of other people. A few snippets of dialog are paraphrased from the NWN2 OC.

Dee muttered as she scanned the audience hall for the source of the chanting, "Please tell me this is some kind of initiation ceremony and that any minute now everyone's gonna start laughing..." But Sir Nevalle drew his sword as well as the alarm continued. Then the hall was filled with chaos; the crowd panicked, and mingled with the blaring alarm were screams of fear and pain. A woman near Dee screamed in agony as she burst into flame and fell to the floor a charred husk. To Dee's horror, a gray mist immediately coalesced around the woman's body, which rose to become a wraith! The air around the creature became as cold as a mountain stream in midwinter. It hissed at her malevolently but recoiled with another scream of agony as she slashed through it. Sir Nevalle grabbed Squire Jessime by her arm and pulled her closer so she was right beside them. Dee and Sir Nevalle instinctively turned so they were nearly back to back with the girl between them as they were surrounded by more wraiths.

He had a wild, desperate tone to his voice as he cried, "Assassins! They've come for Lord Nasher. We have to get to him!" But falling portcullises had cut them off from the throne as well as cutting them off from most of the passageways that led out of the audience chamber.

"We have to live to get to His Grace!" Dee growled in reply.

Dee was thankful she had her short sword. Elanee and Zhjaeve had enchanted all of their weapons with the holy blessing of the gods, and her blessed short sword made quick work of the wraiths, which seemed to melt as it touched them. She couldn't say the same of her new ceremonial long sword, however. It was a finely made silver blade with a beautiful jewel studded hilt, nicely balanced, and though she had enough experience by now to be able to sense an enchanted blade, she could tell the enchantment was only minor. Being silver it wasn't entirely ineffective against some of the undead, but her own long swords were much better.

Dee looked around for spellcasters. "Those shadow priests over there are raising the undead!" She, Sir Nevalle, and Squire Jessime fought their way towards them, both of them trying to protect the girl and keep her from doing any harm to herself or to them. Most of the knights and many of the nobles in the hall were armed, though some looked as if the only thing they had raised since the war with Luskan (or the war before that even) was a fork or a tankard. Nevertheless, most of them drew their weapons and joined with the guards to protect the unarmed spectators. Still they found they had to pick their way over the bodies of the wounded and dying. She didn't know what was happening in the spectator gallery where Casavir and her friends were. Her heart ached with the need to look, but she couldn't risk the distraction for a second.

And just when the last foul priest fell to a vicious downward twisting thrust of Sir Nevalle's blade, two green-skinned people who smelled of the grave materialized out of nowhere. "Vampires!" Sir Nevalle exclaimed, as if she needed to be told. She cursed angrily, invoking Bethshaba and one of her nether body parts.

Nevalle gasped "Captain!"

"Ain't the time for a lecture!" She hadn't used that particular curse in ages, since the time Casavir admonished her about her blaspheming (and later presented her with a 'curse jar' with a fine to be paid for every violation), but even the most vile curses she could think up seemed woefully inadequate now.

She dug in her belt pouch for a vial of holy water and threw it at the nearest one, striking it in the face. The creature screamed as the holy water burned it like acid. Dee could feel her knight's cloak heat up as it absorbed the force of some deadly spell cast at her by the other one. She managed to lop off its arm with her long sword then drove her short sword into its chest as Sir Nevalle neatly beheaded the other with a backward thrust then stabbed his sword through the creature's heart to finish it off. Even the young squire managed to land a blow on the one Dee had been fighting, though she mainly swung her long sword ineffectively. "Come on," Sir Nevalle shouted urgently not just to her but to everyone within earshot, "There's a guard room through this door where we can make a stand! Grab the wounded and we will cover you!" He shoved the young squire towards the door then he and Dee covered for the knights and guards who were trying to help get the wounded and dying out of the audience chamber. Once everyone was through they followed.

They were met there by a harried priest of Tyr who had turned the room into a triage center, healing guards so they could rejoin the fight. He had thrown open a supply closet and had taken all the vials of healing potions and lay them on the table, along with a few vials of holy water and some alchemist's fire. They slammed the door and barred it as soon as everyone got inside. As the others helped lay the injured out on bunks and on the floor, Sir Nevalle grabbed Dee's arm to get her attention. "We must go back and assist Lord Nasher! But ...it is said that when that alarm sounds, an ancient passageway opens to Neverneath and through there to a passage near Lord Nasher's throne. You seem to be..." He struggled to find the right words and finally settled on, "_different_, charmed even. It is said that whenever Neverwinter is in dire need, a hero is sent by the gods, and if that hero is you, I believe you will find the way. We'll fight our way back from here; I want you to go look for the passage behind the tapestries in the hallway. Please, get to him now! We'll cover your escape!"

Like his mother's invitation to tea, it was more of a command than a request. "Alone?" Dee thought incredulously, but she kept that thought to herself because of the desperate, stricken look on his face. Much later she would lie awake because of the realization that she hadn't felt the same depth of terror about what Casavir and the others were facing. "He really has it bad for him, and he's desperate or he wouldn't think of sending me to do anything this crazy," she thought, and she patted his shoulder sympathetically. "I don't think I'm your hero, but I'll do it. Pray Tyr guides my path." She kissed the symbol of the god she wore on a silver chain along with the silver unicorn of Mielikki and grabbed two of each of the vials on the table and tucked them in her belt.

It didn't make much sense to her to run out looking for some mythical hidden passage instead of standing with them and forcing the enemy back, but she glimpsed something otherworldly in his eyes for just a heartbeat, as if there were eyes behind his eyes entreating her to go. But not alone. She uttered a short prayer to Meilikki and summoned Cillian to her side. The bear appeared at once from out of an amber mist. He could sense her agitation and roared at Sir Nevalle before she called him off. She stroked the bear's head. "I missed you too, my love. Come on, we have work to do." A guard peered through the slot in the door to see if the hallway was clear then threw it open, and she sprinted into the hallway followed by Cillian, slashing tapestries looking for the mythical passageway.

The undead hadn't made it this far down the hall, at least not yet. A few doors down she spotted the room where she had dressed and waited to be called where her rucksack and her favorite long sword still were. She ran in, sheathed the ceremonial sword, and switched it for her own sword. It sparked to life from the electrical and fire enchantments Sand had cast upon it as she drew it. "I hope this isn't just some wild goose chase," she groused to Cillian. He looked at her in puzzlement, sniffed the air and reported that no geese, wild or otherwise, were anywhere about them. She chuckled dryly as she dropped to her haunches and dug in her rucksack for a scroll case and a couple of potions of _Invisibility. _ Those had been bought for Neeshka, but they had 'liberated' a _Ring of Invisibility _ from the gang of bounty hunters who had attacked them, and Neeshka immediately seized it for herself.

Dee quaffed one of the potions and persuaded Cillian to let her pour the other in his mouth. The bear growled in alarm as they began to vanish. She whispered, "Don't be afraid, my love. We can use our noses to find one another and speak through our bond." She kissed the top of his head to reassure him. They would be invisible unless they attacked something, but hopefully they could slip around any shadow priests who had made it this far. She wished she had asked Neeshka to train her to move silently. In the forest in her soft-soled boots she could move as silent as a ghost, but here in her hard riding boots almost every footfall on the marble floors echoed maddeningly. "Come on, love, let's go." She opened the door and peered out then called Cillian follow her. She winced at the loud clicking sound his claws made as they struck the marble floor. Definitely no way they were going to be stealthy here.

They strode quickly, Dee slashing at tapestries along the way. "Hope His Grace doesn't charge me for damaging these," she thought as she destroyed yet another. All too soon she turned another corner and came upon more shadow priests. She stopped and reached out her hand to find Cillian to signal for him to stop too. She whispered, "Let's get 'em, love!" Luckily the priests were clad in light armor, and she and Cillian had the element of surprise in their favor, so they took them down quickly. One's bones made an audible, sickening snap as Cillian grabbed him in a bear hug then ripped away his mask and half his face with a slash of his claws. The other fell as she slipped behind him and plunged her short sword into his kidney and gave it a sharp twist. Unfortunately the priests were not alone, and they were now visible to the ghasts that came loping down the hall at them, howling demoniacally.

"Ghasts...I hate gods-cursed ghasts!" She tried to swallow the vomit rising in her throat provoked by their nauseating stench and threw one of the vials of _Alchemist's Fire_ into the midst of them, which destroyed three of the disgusting creatures, as well as another tapestry. Cillian bowled over another one of them and threw his entire weight against it, crushing it. Dee swung her sword at the nearest ghast, which in return slashed her arm with its filthy claws before it fell. She was horrified by the icy feeling of the poison seeping into the wound. The poison of ghast bites or claws often paralyzed the victim, and she thought she could feel her arm stiffening. But again her cloak warmed as its magic protected her from the paralysis, and she slashed the last ghast across the midsection, nearly cutting it in half, the wound spraying her and the bear with foul-smelling black blood.

That hallway led to a stairway going down. As Cillian reared up on his hind legs and turned his head from side to side as he sniffed the air, Dee leaned against the wall around the corner to catch her breath, the marble cool against her cheek. "Smells bad down there. Rot...carcasses..._moving_ carcasses," he reported. Her heart was pounding so loudly she felt like it would fly from her chest, and she was sure the undead could hear it too, but it occurred to her she could turn that to her advantage if she lured whatever was down the stairs out. Using the most helpless-girly voice she could muster she moaned loudly and called out, "Help me, please! Is someone there? I'm hurt! Please!"

And as she suspected, the lure of easy prey was too much to resist. Another of the green-skinned vampires ran up the stairs, but she was waiting around the corner with her blades. This one had been a monk in life, and skilled as she was he easily dodged most of her swings and followed with a flurry of blows that made her head spin, and she prayed he couldn't do the thing that Khelgar did that made his opponent's heart explode. All the while the creature taunted her, promising that she would lie in his arms in his coffin in the morning. That's when Cillian slashed him from behind. Being momentarily distracted by the bear, Dee managed to stab her short sword into its chest and through its heart.

Another vampire screamed in rage as she beheld her companion fall and crumble to dust. She flew up the stairs and started to summon the magic for a spell, but Dee and Cillian didn't give her a chance to finish it. They threw themselves at her to cut her off. Dee landed half a dozen blows with her swords and Cillian managed a vicious swipe of his claws that nearly scalped her, but the creature still fought on. By the time Dee landed the killing blow, she and the bear were exhausted, but they couldn't pause for longer than it took for them each to drink a healing potion. She didn't even have a water skin on her belt, and she tried to ignore her parched throat as they pressed on.

And as she absently slashed another tapestry, beginning to lose faith in the legend and in Sir Nevalle's otherworldly vision, there it was! She blinked, wiped her spectacles, and looked again, but there was definitely an outline of a door there in the wall. "Well I'll be damned," she muttered. Neeshka would have thrown a fit that she didn't take the time to check the door for traps before she gave it a few exploratory pushes to trigger the mechanism that opened it. It slid aside, and she could feel cool air blow past her through the open passage. "Come on, my love. Let's see where this goes." She took Sand's light and opened it, but as they walked down the hall enchanted torches in sconces burst into flame, so she put it back in her pouch to leave her hands free to fight with both swords. The air was less stale than she had expected. They jogged down a long hallway. There were several doors along the way, but all of them were locked. A few ice mephits swarmed and attacked them, but they were more annoying pests than any serious threat. Up ahead she could make out a statue of a knight. It stood alone in an alcove that had closed doors on two sides.

A booming voice rang out and echoed around the alcove as she stepped on the tile in front of it. She recognized the spell, _Magic Mouth,_ that would activate when someone approached it and make the statue appear to talk as the same one that Sand had cast on the door to his chambers to warn away the inquisitive (the voice mentioned Neeshka by name). She stood there in awe thinking that she couldn't wait to tell Gyven about this place then realized to her chagrin it had asked her a question, but she hadn't been paying attention. "Could you repeat that please?" she asked, blushing scarlet.

She thought she heard just a touch of annoyance in the voice as it repeated loudly, "How many fingers have I?" She looked at the statue, but it was too hard to tell. Then the answer came to her and she smacked her forehead. If the statue was of Lord Never, it must be speaking of the original Nine, and she held her breath after she answered that. A door to her left slid open and she slowly stepped through only to find fire mephits to swat away like the annoying pests they were so they could run to another statue at the end of that hall.

Most of the questions were easy enough for anyone who had lived in the city or read anything of Neverwinter's history, but she almost erred on the second to the last. She was asked, "Where would an enemy of Neverwinter find a map of the city?" and caught herself just before she replied, "That's easy! The street of book sellers next to the temple of Gond." But it felt as if someone poked her and she realized the statue had used the word 'enemy.' So she whispered a quick prayer of thanks to Tyr and Meilikki and remained silent, and after an anxious moment, a door slid open. She sighed with relief and walked through. They were swarmed by both kinds of mephits in this hallway, and Dee grumbled to Cillian in exasperation, "Surely the battle upstairs must be over by now. How many more gods-damned challenges can there be?" She left swatting them down to the bear and sprinted down to the next statue, which simply asked her to swear her loyalty to Neverwinter. "That's it? Then I solemnly swear my loyalty to Neverwinter. " She held her breath and heard a loud click, and then a door directly behind the statue opened as Cillian caught up to her.

And there it was! The way opened to a chamber that was oddly free of dust. Magical light that had no obvious source streamed down to illuminate an open coffin on a platform in the center of the room, surrounded by nine statues. Even from across the room she could see the body inside the coffin, perfectly preserved. "My gods, this really is it!" she gasped breathlessly to Cillian. She looked in awe on the spectacle. Nine swords floated in the air in a circle around the coffin, and she was sure they would attack if she wasn't careful. She tried to remember the words of the last statue. It had warned her about how she approached the body, so she called Cillian to her side and walked around the room slowly. She found she couldn't help but read the inscriptions on some of the statues of Lord Never's original Nine as she passed despite the urgency, but then again it felt as if time was suspended in this place.

Once she got to the back of the room, she told Cillian to wait for her and stepped gingerly on the carpet runner that led to Lord Halueth Never. She had to remind herself to breathe as she gazed on the perfectly preserved body's handsome elven features. She sheathed her swords and took a long sword lying beside the body in the coffin and looped its belt across her back and shoulder without a second thought. Lord Never held a rod in his hand, and whether it was a trick of her unsettled imagination she wasn't sure, but somehow a heartbeat later the rod was in _her_ hand, and later the more she told the tale, the more sure she was that the body itself had handed it to her, and that his eyes had opened and looked into hers for a moment. She stuck it in her belt, backed away, and ran up some stairs she spotted across the chamber, anxious to get away but feeling an odd sense of regret to leave the peaceful tomb.

As she gained the top of the stairs she found three stone walls blocking her way, so she felt around for the door she knew had to be there. Otherwise, why the stairs, she reasoned. After several distressing minutes of searching the walls in vain, she leaned back against one of the walls with an exasperated sigh when she noticed a sconce with another magically lit torch was a tiny bit lower than the sconce opposite it. She held her breath and pulled on it, closing her eyes and bracing herself in case it was trapped. Nothing happened; she muttered a curse and crossed the landing to pull on the other. This time a door slid open, and she was about to draw her long sword again when she thought better of it and drew Lord Never's sword from her back instead. She realized as she yanked down a tapestry barring her way that she was directly behind Lord Nasher's throne. But was she in time? Incredibly it sounded as if the battle was still going on, as if they had been prolonging it until she arrived.

To her horror she saw a shadow reaver menacing Lord Nasher as he, Sir Grayson, and two of the remaining guards fought it off. From the way Lord Nasher's cloak and crown glowed, it looked as if they had absorbed the energy of several evil spells the reaver had cast at him. She grabbed the other vial of holy water in her belt and lobbed it at the abomination and followed up with the alchemists' fire before she drew her short sword. The shadow reaver hissed in pain as they struck, but she knew that it wasn't possible to kill it. The best they could hope for was to injure it enough to force it to retreat to the Shadow King's lair. She heard metal banging on metal and caught a glimpse of Sir Nevalle's distressed face across the hall as he and several guards feverishly tried to pry open the portcullis that blocked the throne from the rest of the chamber, but without success.

She stepped up beside Lord Nasher, who blinked in surprise and asked her, "Where the hells did you come from?" She and Cillian took positions on the opposite side from Sir Grayson and joined the fight until they overwhelmed the reaver and it vanished in a swirl of noxious black smoke. With that, the portcullises slid back into their recesses and Sir Nevalle and the guards charged the dais. Dee asked in alarm, "My Lord, are you alright?" as Lord Nasher sat heavily on his throne. He put his face in his hands for a moment as he tried to compose himself. "They attacked me in my very castle! This is how this enemy fights, with magic rather than with swords!"

Sir Nevalle rushed to his side and took his hand while his other hand went around his shoulders to support him. "Nash...my...Lord." He turned and shouted, "A priest to Lord Nasher!" Priests of many faiths had already come running into the room once the way was clear, having been summoned initially to the castle when the alarm sounded, and they had immediately turned to healing the fallen and blessing the dead.

Lord Nasher stood and allowed Sir Nevalle the briefest of public embraces. "I am not badly hurt, Gilles. Have the priests see to the others." He turned his attention to Dee and the bear standing beside Sir Grayson. "Is that is the Rod of Never in your belt? I've seen it in his portrait. My gods, where did you find it? Let me see it!"

She explained as Prior Hlam lay his hand on her head and cast a healing spell how Sir Nevalle had sent her to find the forgotten passageway. She handed it to him. "It was like he knew I would find it. 'Tis there through that doorway." She nodded over her shoulder, but the doorway was closed again. "It _was_ there behind that tapestry on the floor. I can probably find it again, or mayhap my friend Neesh can if I can't."

He whispered to no one in particular as he turned the rod in his hands, "This rod will unlock all of the secrets of Castle Never, beginning with that door."

She suddenly became aware of the sword in her hand and sheathed it and handed it to him sheepishly. "Oh, and this is his sword too."

He grinned sardonically at her, took the sword and drew it, then ran his hand over the blade. "Now where were we? I recall we had a ceremony to perform, and I apologize in advance that it will be rather truncated. You don't mind my using Lord Never's sword, Squire? I think afterwards I will give it to you as a reward for your service. Grayson, do you release this squire from fealty to you?" Sir Grayson, being tended to by a Dawnbringer of Lathander, looked over and nodded his assent. "Then kneel, Squire." She did so albeit shakily, too exhausted and overwhelmed to argue though she was in agreement with Sir Nevalle's sputtered protest that they follow the proper procedure. Lord Nasher smiled at him and patted his cheek fondly. "And may I remind you, Sir Nevalle, that you were knighted in the field of battle kneeling in the mud as we were surrounded by orcs? We have much to do, and little time to observe formalities." He turned his attention back to Dee. "Do you swear fealty to Neverwinter, Squire?"

Dee wiped away a tear, which was followed by another, and replied breathlessly, "I swear fealty to Neverwinter."

Lord Nasher dubbed her left shoulder. "So be it. In remembrance of oaths given and received." He dubbed her right shoulder. "In remembrance of your obligations. " He finished by taping her lightly on top of her head. "Rise, Lady Dierdre Farlong, Knight of Neverwinter." She stood before him, and he struck her lightly on the cheek with his fist, but still hard enough that she had to take a step back. "Take that blow to remind you that Knighthood shall bring you pain as well as honor. Let it be the last unanswered blow you take."

She was crying softly now but made no attempt to stem the flow of tears. Sir Grayson stepped up with a set of silver spurs, and he and Sir Nevalle knelt together and fastened them to her boots as Lord Nasher took a thick gold chain from around his neck and placed it around hers. "Take these as tokens of your knighthood, the spurs for a token of your rank, and this chain as a token of your fealty. There, I believe that is everything." He embraced her stiffly and patted Cillian's head then gently chided Sir Nevalle. "And you feared her bear would misbehave. Now Lady Farlong, go and greet your peers, and that handsome dark haired young man whom I believe is awaiting you anxiously. Afterwards you two will join me in my privy chamber for dinner. You may bring the bear too, I suppose. We have much to discuss regarding your Keep and the coming war." He raised his voice so it reverberated throughout the hall. " In the meantime, I fear we must draw up plans for evacuating the city. Representatives from the various temples, Captain Brelaina and Marshall Cormick of the Watch, and my advisors will attend me in the War Room immediately."

She managed to stammer, "Thank you, my Lord," as he gave her a curt nod of dismissal and walked off briskly followed by a flock of retainers and advisors, and then she was swept up in Casavir's arms. She sighed, "Oh love," and they shared a long kiss before he reluctantly broke away to let her companions have a few moments with her.

Sand took one look at her, wrinkled his nose in distaste, and cast a _Clean_ cantrip before he accepted the hug. He took a set of calipers from one of his pouches and used them to remove a ghast claw still embedded in her sleeve, which he placed in a jar then into his pouch. Duncan was right behind him, followed by her Knight, the Prior, and Judge Oleff. She wasn't as surprised as the others were that Bishop had wanted to come along as well. She hugged him and whispered, "I"m so glad you came, Bish. It means a lot to me that we can put the past behind us and be friends now." She was confident that this was proof that she had been right about him (and everyone else was wrong) and that he was responding to her overtures of kindness and companionship.

But even as she hugged him and he returned it stiffly, she missed the look of pain that her words caused him, as if she had offered him the most vile of curses instead. But Casavir didn't. He had given up trying to persuade her that the ranger was not to be trusted when he couldn't argue with her retort, "I have to trust him until he gives me a reason not to." He let it go because Bishop remaining at the Keep was the only thing they argued about now. He even agreed that they needed his skills. But he wasn't letting his guard down.

Neither Elanee nor Zhjaeve was there. Casavir explained that the Githzerai remained behind to learn what she could from Ammon Jerro, but she was also fascinated with the coming of spring and the constant changes to the land and was taking an active part in the spring planting. Elanee had stayed to help with the planting too but also to serve as a referee between Zhjaeve and Jerro.

Grobnar was there too behind Khelgar and had composed a song for the occasion which he was ready to sing, but Dee promised to listen to it later at the tavern. She knelt and hugged them both then they all turned towards the sounds of a commotion near the wall, which included Neeshka's distinct high-pitched voice; Dee was the least surprised of any of them to see that the tiefling had caught a man who had slipped in and was taking advantage of the chaos to rob the dead and injured under the guise of helping. Neeshka was twisting his arm behind his back and shouting for the guard.

Sir Nevalle cleared his throat loudly to get her attention, and Dee looked at him and observed that he really _did _tap his right foot when he was growing impatient like Squire Jessime had said. It was all she could do not to burst out laughing despite the seriousness of the situation, or perhaps because of it. "I'll see you all back at the Flagon." She took Casavir's hand and as they followed Sir Nevalle, whispered, "I have so much to tell you, love."

He kissed the top of her head and sighed softly. "Now you can't scold me for calling you 'my lady.' I was very worried when we were cut off from you, and once we defeated the undead in the gallery, all I could do was pray for you and the others down here, not that prayer is a small thing. We could hear the sounds of fighting but we couldn't breach the defenses. It was very frustrating."

She leaned against him, taking in his scent and basking in the calming of his presence. "It was all I could do not to worry about you. And we were cut off from Lord Nasher too. I don't think anyone expected an attack like that here. I guess we were all a bit complacent, and people died because of it."

Sir Nevalle led them up a stairway that led to the royal suite. He paused as if uncertain as to his course before he opened a door and gestured for them to enter. "These rooms in this corridor are reserved for members of the Nine, but this one is not in use. You may wait here and refresh yourselves while you await Lord Nasher's summons. I'll have one of the servants bring your things here." He put a hand on her shoulder as they were about to enter. "Lady Farlong, might I have a word with you...alone?"

Dee blinked as she realized he was addressing her. _Lady_ would take some getting used to. "Of course, Sir Nevalle." Casavir bowed deeply to Sir Nevalle and entered the room with Cillian, shutting the door behind them. Dee knew he would never think of standing on the other side of the door and listening to them like she would have.

Once Casavir was out of sight, it was as if the last bit of energy the knight had summoned to fight his way to Lord Nasher evaporated, and he sagged heavily against the wall. Dee grabbed him in alarm. "Sir Nevalle! Are you hurt? Let me get a priest!"

He breathed heavily trying to fight the emotions that were overwhelming him as he leaned against her and managed to get out, "No, thank you. I'm not badly injured. It's just...I don't know what I would do if I...if _Neverwinter _lost Lord Nasher...and I have few to whom I may confide this." He shuddered as he tried wipe away the tears that were streaming down his cheeks and whispered, "Forgive me."

She wrapped him in her arms and coaxed him into laying his head on her shoulder as she stroked his hair and murmured words of comfort. "There now, Sir Nevalle, there's nothin' to forgive. Let it out before it makes you sick. You were right. The gods must have inspired you to send me down there."

He fished a delicate linen handkerchief embroidered with his family's crest from his pouch and wiped his eyes then blew his nose loudly. "Nevertheless, you have my deepest thanks. And you no longer have to address me by 'Sir' as you are now a peer of the realm. You may call me Nevalle as the other knights do, or Gilles. It's my given name. But I pray you, please do not shorten it to 'Nev.' I've observed that you have a habit of shortening the names of your companions, but I detest being called that."

She gave him another hug. "Nevalle it is. Now you should go wash your face and put on a clean tabbard before His Grace calls us." She winked and stepped away.

He looked at her then at himself aghast. "You're right, I must look hideous. Thank you...Dierdre." He absently finger-combed his hair and glanced at his face in a mirror hanging near them. "My gods, I _am_ a fright. But you're more so."

She chuckled. "I'm sure His Grace won't mind too much. Go to him, he needs you...your counsel." She paused as she was about to open the door. "And by the way, my friends call me Dee, not Dierdre."

He smiled. "Dee then. And you are right. When Nash...Lord Nasher is the most distressed, in public view he acts as if everything is normal. Hence your knighting, which could have been rescheduled until tomorrow. Oh, and speaking of tomorrow, Mother will still expect you for tea, and I would be happy to take you by the shops to find something more...suitable to wear and we can stop by the barber if there's time. Your hair is rather shaggy." She ran her fingers through her hair self consciously. "Then perhaps you can help me persuade Mother to take the evacuation order seriously. That's a battle I am not looking forward to." He took her hand and kissed it, but she pulled him into another hug then turned to her room.

She paused with her hand on the knob. "My hair...Cas likes to brush it, so I'm growin' it out for him. I know we have much to do, but for now I need to spend some time in the arms of my beloved. I think his Grace needs to do the same, though he probably won't admit it."

And she threw herself into Casavir's arms as soon as the door was closed. They kissed then gazed into one another's eyes as she put her hands on either side of his face and caressed his cheeks. He murmured, his eyes glazed with tears, "Dee, I was so terribly worried about you. I don't know what I would do if..."

She kissed him fiercely to stop the words she couldn't bear to hear that would force her to confront the unthinkable. They kissed softly again and again and again until she reluctantly broke away to answer a soft knock on the door, where a young serving boy was standing with her rucksack.

She told him what had happened as she undressed, with much assistance (and much hindrance) from Casavir, who had prepared a basin holding warm, wet cloths while he was waiting that he ran over her body followed by gentle kisses and a few soft bites that made her shiver. He murmured, "There's a bath through that door. Pity we don't have time to share it." He had overcome his initial shyness at sharing a bath with her until that, along with slowly undressing her to get into it, had become his favorite forms of foreplay. He had even surprised her on a few occasions by having a hot bath in her candle-lit room waiting for her.

"Yes, it is a pity, but there's the bath at Uncle's tavern later," she whispered huskily as she let him help her dress, tying all the various laces on her garb. She recalled then a late night discussion about men with Neeshka and Shandra at the Moonstone Mask. One of Ophala's women overheard them and had asserted that all men had their quirks and then she educated them with examples both benign and bizarre. Dee had countered that perhaps that was true of some men, but surely not all and cited Casavir as an example, and Neeshka and Shandra had heartily agreed. But she had been proved wrong, though she was relieved that his quirks so far tended towards the benign.

They were even developing their own secret erotic code, using mundane words with double meanings inserted into perfectly ordinary conversations as a promise of what was to come once they were finished with their duties and alone together. Twice he had slipped notes into a ledger and once into a pile of documents she had to sign (and to his horror Kana almost intercepted it) and had responded to her gasp when she found them with a knowing smile. She stretched up and whispered in his ear, "I can't wait to get you alone at Uncle Duncan's tonight." She nipped his earlobe and followed with a deep kiss. All too soon a guard rapped on the door and announced that he was there to escort them to Lord Nasher.

A round table laden with a variety of dishes had been set up in one of his audience rooms, but no one had much of an appetite except for Dee, which was so unusual for her that Casavir found himself watching her with controlled alarm, and Cillian, who never had to be prompted to eat. She sampled most of the dishes on the table like she hadn't eaten in a month. But the flavors seemed so vibrant as if she was tasting them for the first time that she wanted to try a bit of everything the steward offered her. Lord Nasher toyed with his food for a while then pushed it away and stood and paced the room like a caged animal, saying little but nevertheless betraying his outrage at the attack. Sir Nevalle watched him pace across the room then back again with obvious concern, and Dee again was moved to pity for him.

She was given her orders—to finish the fortifications of the Keep, help find a way to destroy the shadow reavers, and to make allies wherever she could. Lord Nasher told them he had dispatched messages to his ambassadors in Waterdeep to entreat the Lords Alliance to send troops and to accept as many of Neverwinter's citizens as refugees as they could. They discussed asking Luskan for aid, but in the end Lord Nasher decided Luskan was not to be trusted so to save that as a last resort, to the relief of them all. Casavir suggested asking the churches of the good gods for help. Dee suggested they approach the dwarven clans and also the tribe of lizard men near Highcliff. Lord Nasher was skeptical, but agreed with her that they couldn't afford to reject any aid.

He had been pacing the whole time and paused halfway across the room in mid stride and turned to face her. "I could use your service in another form. I no longer have my full Nine, Lady Farlong, and I invite you to fill out their number."

Dee quickly chewed and swallowed the bite she had in her mouth, blushing deeply. Was this something she even wanted? "Why me?," she thought, and she cast out a silent prayer for guidance to Tyr before she replied, " I'm honored, Your Grace. But isn't it too soon since I became your knight, and won't people wonder why my star is rising so quickly when there are other worthy candidates? It could create dissent among your retainers."

Lord Nasher scowled in annoyance for a second but covered it well. "True, here are others who are worthy, but I've offered this honor to _you_."

Casavir reached under the table and squeezed her hand giving her a subtle warning to choose her words carefully, and she squeezed his hand in return. "It is a great honor, Your Grace. I will think on it and seek the gods and give you my answer after I've returned from the Ironfist Clan stronghold."

He picked up the rod and walked to the door. "Very well, Lady Farlong. Now, if you are finished with the strawberry tart, I would like you to show us the way to Neverneath."

As it turned out, the rod _did _open the way, though Lord Nasher closed the door and had her demonstrate how she found the door and how to open it anyway. This time she was able to read the placards on the statues at her leisure and copied them into her journal with Casavir at her side. Sir Nevalle followed Lord Nasher as he walked to the casket and gazed upon the body of Lord Never, saying nothing but stroking his beard deep in thought. Sir Nevalle took his hand as they stood there.

There were chests in the room that she hadn't taken the time to open before, but she did so now at Lord Nasher's request, glad that none of the locks were beyond her skill. Among other things they found a fine set of mirrored armor, which Lord Nasher offered to Dee, but she offered it to Sir Nevalle when she saw the way his eyes lit up when he saw it. She did accept a short sword with Lord Nasher's permission to sell it to defray the costs of fortifying the Keep. Once they opened all the chests, Dee led them in reverse order through the passageways until she found the one she had entered through. They opened the door and Lord Nasher stepped out into the hallway, startling a handful of guards and workers who were rehanging the tapestry over the hidden door.

They followed behind Lord Nasher and Sir Nevalle examining the damage to the castle, which several members of the Many-Starred Cloaks had already set about repairing. Dee was relieved to see that most of the tapestries she had damaged had been repaired good as new. Lord Nasher led her to see where her own banner had been hung towards the back of the audience chamber. As Lord Nasher was explaining the history of some of the other knights' banners, she caught Sir Nevalle glancing at waterclocks along the way and also saw him stifling yawns, so she feigned a huge, unladylike yawn. Casavir nudged her discreetly. It _was_ rude, but she was the yokel from West Harbor, so she figured she could get away with it. She knew she couldn't leave without being dismissed by her lord, who she could tell was talking through his nervousness and anxiety much the same way as she did. Lord Nasher did a double take when he looked at the waterclock and realized the lateness of the hour. "You must be exhausted, so you best return to your uncle's tavern. Nevalle certainly looks like he can't wait to go to bed either." Dee bit her lip to stifle a chuckle and she and Casavir bowed to them both and walked backwards the required ten steps before custom dictated they could turn their back on him.

Sir Nevalle called out, "I'll collect you at ten so we have time to go to the shops. Mother finds tardiness distasteful." He turned and glanced subtly with his eyes towards the stairs and Lord Nasher's chambers and smiled invitingly. Lord Nasher gazed at him for a moment then put his arms around him and kissed him gently, with no regard for public appearances, not that their relationship was a secret to any of the guards and servants on duty.

Dee, Cillian, and Casavir walked back through the city slowly towards the tavern. Word of the attack had spread like the pox through the city, and some citizens weren't waiting for the official evacuation order and were already heading to the docks with carts and wheelbarrows loaded down with their most important belongings or carrying bundles on their backs, some to travel by caravan to Port Llast or as far north as Mirabar to wait out the coming battle, and others to get on a ship headed anywhere as long as they were far away from here. As they reached the corner Dee saw Bishop entering one of the more economically priced festhalls down the street from the Flagon. She could tell it was him from his stance and the way he walked, though Karnwyr wasn't with him and he had his hood up. She cast a silent prayer to Sharess that he wouldn't catch anything there.

"I wonder whatever became of the last hero of Neverwinter," Dee mused as they walked up to the tavern door.

Casavir gave her a squeeze and kissed her forehead. "Retired to richly earned obscurity the last I heard."

She kissed him back sleepily. "Relative obscurity. I pray we live to see it."

Bishop sat drinking cheap ale at the bar while he waited for the wench to finish with her customer. He was on his third when the barkeep eyed a man coming down the stairs and nodded at Bishop and growled, "Opal's in Room Five, a silver for the ales and five more for the house cut. Settle the rest up with her." Bishop tossed the coins over and took the stairs two at a time. He knocked once sharply and the wench, wearing nothing but a thin sleeveless chemise, opened the door and stood leaning against the door jamb in a seductive pose. He wrinkled his nose in disgust at the smells of filth, sweat, and sex that mingled in the room with an undercurrent of the smoke of _dragon's milk_.

"Oh, it's you again." She bit the gold piece he pressed into her hand after she stood aside for him to enter and closed the door behind him. She put the coin in a pouch on top of a crate which served as a table and held her meager possessions then shimmied out of the chemise.

"I'm only here for information." He sat on the only chair in the room and stared at her nakedness anyway rethinking his original intention.

"You're paying this much for information again? You've paid enough for a tumble, or I can at least give you a suck." She was tired, but the woodsman was more handsome than the majority of her customers. It was too bad she didn't have more who only wanted to talk. She reclined on the bed on her side and patted it and pouted that he made no move to join her. "I told you everything I know about Casavir before, but it's your gold." She stood and slipped the chemise back on and then opened a small metal tin. She withdrew a thin ceramic pipe and stuffed black tar-like ball in it and lit it, breathing in the smoke deeply. "Want some?" She held the pipe out to him.

Bishop scowled in disgust and stood and walked to the door. "That can wait until I leave, can't it? I've paid for your time. Do that on _your own_ time. I just want to know what else you can tell me about Casavir. There must be something else."

She shrugged and put the pipe out. "There's nothing more I can think of." She repeated everything she had told him the first time, her own version of her brief affair with Casavir. "And that's it. I hadn't seen him except in passing since then until I saw him on the street a few months ago with that skinny blond who's built like a boy." He demanded she go over every detail again. Emboldened by the drug, she narrowed her eyes and swayed over to Bishop and caressed his chest then ran her hand on down and gave him a squeeze. "Why are you so interested in Casavir. Is it because you want _her_, or is it because you want him? You want to give _him_ a suck, hmm?" She laughed at the way his face darkened.

That was the last word she ever spoke. The next thing she knew his hands were around her throat and she was trying to scream and gasping for breath and then everything went dark.


	29. Alliances

Note: As usual none of the characters are mine except a bear lovin' ranger and an occasional NPC. Also, bear in mind that Bishop as he exists in this world, one world of many in the multiverse, is the CE the game says he is and not the CN that was depicted for the most part. As always, reviews and constructive criticisms appreciated.

Chapter 29 Alliances

The room was bathed in crimson. The tawdry furnishings, the faint light streaming through the thin curtain all glowed with it. It was if the whole world had been painted red. Bishop looked down at the wench's face through the red haze flooding his vision. She had been hitting him, clawing at his hands, trying in vain to break his hold on her neck, but no longer. He came to his senses as the red haze faded and dropped her roughly on the bed. He sat heavily on the flimsy chair and shook his head to clear it. The thing to do was not panic. That would send him to the hangman fast, even for killing a drug-addled whore.

He listened, but the only sounds he heard were loud grunts, feigned moans of pleasure, and the rhythmic creaking of the bed springs in the next room; the wench hadn't made so much noise that she drew attention to them. He cursed himself for a fool; he didn't know who was more a fool though, him for his need to uncover some dirt he could use against the paladin, or this wench, who was too stupid to know when to shut her big mouth. Why did he even care about the paladin anyway? He had to kill that thought because of the festering poison of her words.

He looked around the room and ran his hands through his hair. "Think, Bishop, you fucking fool." There was a cheap traveling bag resting on a shelf mounted over three pegs on which hung the bulk of her wardrobe. He could stuff her possessions in it, make it look like the wench ran out. There wasn't much to pack. He would make sure no one was around and drop her out the window wrapped in the blanket, weigh her down with rocks, and dump her under the docks or out in the salt marsh. Or into the sewers, though that was risky since they were heavily traveled by those who didn't want to be seen on the city streets.

He walked to the window and looked out. From here through the alley he could see a a growing crowd forming at the docks trying to arrange passage out of here before all the hells broke loose. Too many around to risk it now, but It would be high tide soon, and most of those who didn't manage to book passage on a ship leaving tonight would disperse until morning. There was still too good a chance of being seen, but there was no other way out unless he chanced the back stairs. But then he would run the risk of encountering one of the other whores or the cleaning people.

Luckily he had been smart enough to buy the wench for the night. She had draped a gaudy purple scarf around the door knob before she shut it as a signal for the madam after she took his coins. He thought she would be more cooperative if he gave her the incentive of a night off from sucking cock, and besides that, he hadn't wanted anyone pounding on the door shouting that his time was up just as the wench was remembering something useful and distracting her. Had the barkeep gotten a good look at his face despite the hood? He had been in this festhall before, but then so had hundreds, maybe thousands of others this year. He told himself to wait, and he could get away if he played his cards right and left in the early hours of the morning. In fact, it might be smart to get some sleep on the rug for now once he figured things out.

And after that, what? Back to the Keep? He could leave word with Duncan or whoever was about that he was bored and going back early. But the more he thought about it, the more he saw he was just stepping back into the snare. Why should he even go back at all? He answered the devil girl's question that he wasn't staying for the celebration with his usual sneer, so he knew no one would look for him until they were ready to set out for the Keep in a day or two. Screw it all! Screw her, screw him, screw themall! Grab the mutt and get out of here, that's what he should do. He could get away fast on the horse he rode in on, but he thought better of that as he took a long drink from a bottle of cheap whiskey on the dresser. Though he could travel faster by horse, they needed a good deal of upkeep, unlike the mutt, who took care of himself.

On foot then. Head east maybe, blaze his own trail over the hills and into the mountains now that the snows had melted and turn his back on the Sword Coast. Lay low in the mountains for a year or two, like he offered to do with _her _so long ago before the trial. He felt a twinge of guilt as he remembered she took him up on the offer too. But she hadn't meant it anymore than he had. No wench means anything she says he reminded himself, and they could be trusted as far as he could throw them, her included. Looking back now he could see that she was only testing him, and he had seen in her eyes he failed. He shook off that thought with a curse and wished it was her lying on that bed instead of the whore. No, he was better off with no complications. There wasn't much a wench could do that he couldn't take care of with his own hand. The mutt was enough company. Eventually he could make his way to the Golden Road and work his way down it as a scout and hunter, if he needed to work at all. He could live off the land and had a pouch hidden in his boot stuffed with small gems he had saved from his share of their loot that would last him for years.

There was also the possibility of getting on a ship headed south to Waterdeep and beyond. He hated traveling by ship because he had never gotten used to the constant rocking motion, and that was in a calm sea, and it always made him queasy. He hated looking weak in front of the others, especially _her_. But if he went by ship tonight he would be many miles away before they found the body. He stood and grabbed the whore's things and shoved them in her travel bag. It occurred to him that he should put one of the gowns on her. Otherwise if she was found in only her chemise, her last customer would be the most likely suspect. He selected the best of the three and walked to the bed. As he knelt to dress her, he realized that she was still breathing. Shallowly, but she was breathing nonetheless. His first impulse was to hold the pillow over her face until she stopped.

As Bishop had entered the festhall on his quest to undo the paladin, Dee and Casavir had arrived at the Flagon. "They're here!" Neeshka squealed excitedly bouncing on her toes as Dee walked in, followed by Cillian then Casavir, who was holding the door for them. She ran up and threw her arms around Dee and squeezed Casavir's hand and led them to a pair of tables in the back of the tavern where Duncan had prepared a celebratory supper. They had waited over an hour for Dee and Casavir to arrive until finally Sand convinced Duncan that they might not even be allowed to return from the castle until the next day, depending on how long Lord Nasher's planning session took. Marshall Cormick dropped by shortly after this with word that he and Captain Brelaina had just left the Castle, and as they were leaving Lord Nasher was sending a guard for Dee. So they gave in to their hunger, and most of the dinner had been eaten by the time Dee and Casavir finally arrived.

Khelgar passed them each a mug of thick black dwarven ale as they sat down behind the table. Cormick was talking about the difficulty, if not impossibility, of evacuating a city of this size, the need to impose martial law to force the reluctant on, and his fears that the poor of the Docks District would be the last ones to be thought of in the evacuation, and that Axle's gang would take advantage of the resulting chaos. With a tired sigh he gave Dee a hug and took his leave.

Everyone gathered around full of questions about what happened, and as Duncan passed them plates of what food was left (she didn't have the heart to tell him they had eaten at the Castle, nor did Casavir), Dee leaned tiredly against Casavir's chest and she retold the story of the attack and her discovery of Neverneath. Casavir interrupted and corrected her on parts she left out or had changed, since he had heard it twice already. She stuck her tongue out at him the second time but kissed his hand and said with a grin, "See, that is why I'd never make a decent bard." Then she grew serious, leaned forward and told them of Lord Nasher's orders for her. "But they're my orders, not yours. I'm the one who swore to serve him, and I wouldn't blame any of you if you took off at first light."

Sand listened with a skeptical frown as he sipped a delicate red wine from Suzail. "I don't wish to add to your troubles, but making an alliance with the lizardmen seems a pointless quest, dear girl. You might just as well approach what remains of the orcish clans. But as far as finding a way to destroy the Shadow Reavers, Lord Nasher is right that the Hosttower might have some knowledge on that front. I also will work on that with Aldanon while you're gone. Someone needs to be there who can keep him focused. But you should take Qara with you. You'll need a spellcaster, and we don't know how far we can trust Jerro. She could use some exercise before she outgrows her robe, though you will have to restrain her impulse to blow up everyone you encounter."

Dee choked as she sipped the thick, sour ale then turned to Khelgar once she finished coughing. "And the Ironfists—do you think they'll be willing to help, Khel? Can we convince them of the danger?" It had taken time, but she had shown her friend how he had offended his clan by leaving to become a monk. She didn't know how to tell him tactfully that they didn't have time to waste going all the way to his clan's stronghold if they refused to join the fight.

Khelgar patted her hand reassuringly. "Don't you worry, Captain. Most of 'em will welcome the chance to send the King of Shadows to the hells, but 'tis Keros, our clan leader, we have to convince. Trouble is he and I never got along, even as lads. He accused me of being the reason Khalia the Red refused to marry him, and not his bad breath and worse disposition. He's a fool if he doesn't see the threat to the Ironfists as well as Neverwinter, but then he's always been something of a fool."

Dee stifled another yawn as she wondered if it would be prying to ask him more about Khalia the Red. Casavir kissed her cheek and whispered, "You are tired, my lady. Would you like to retire to our room now? I think it's too late for that bath though." He was almost successful in hiding the note of disappointment that crept into his voice, and she squeezed his hand sympathetically.

She was about to agree when Grobnar, who had been listening quietly as he strummed his lute, said "There's always the Wendersnaven."

Dee stood and stepped aside so Casavir could get out from behind the table. "Wender what?," she asked sleepily through another yawn.

"Not the Wenderwhat, the Wendersnaven," he corrected her. The Wenderwhat's an entirely different entity." He smiled beatifically and launched what promised to be a lengthy explanation of what sounded like some kind of Gnomish deity, all the while strumming a hypnotic tune on his lute. She blinked and tried to make sense of it all and gave Casavir a puzzled look as she leaned against him, but she was too tired to think about creatures that were "many Khelgars high, or maybe infinitely small." At the same time, to her tired brain seeking out the help of some esoteric gnomish entity didn't seem any more far-fetched than trying to form an alliance with the lizardmen.

But he could go on all night, and probably would, so she held her hand up to stop him. "Please, we'll talk about it tomorrow, Grobby. For now, I need to get to bed." By this time nearly everyone but Neeshka and the gnome were also ready to seek the comfort of their beds. Dee could barely keep her eyes open. She had slept little the past few days since Shandra's death, and it was catching up with her.

Duncan had saved for them the room that to her would always be _their_ room. The memory hadn't faded of waking up that first morning, feeling the tickle of the hair on chest against her back and his hot breath on her neck. Then turning over, she found he had been watching her and she gazed into his brilliant blue eyes. Remembering the way they twinkled when he smiled at her before he slipped his hand behind her neck and gave her a soft kiss still caused her to tingle.

Cillian ran in ahead of them to claim his place in front of the fire. Casavir shut the door and took her in his arms, and they exchanged a soft kiss then stood there quietly for a moment in one another's arms. He murmured, "Alone at last." She removed her armor and swords and he quickly undressed and put on his night shirt. He retrieved her favorite nightgown as she undressed and handed it to her. "You look utterly exhausted, my lady, and you must get some rest. Let us sleep tonight. There is always tomorrow."

But she wasn't so sure about that anymore, not that she was ready to confide that to him yet. She lay the nightgown on a chair and put her arms around him and nestled her head against his shoulder. "It's been so long, Cas, since that night before we found Jerro's Haven when Sand conjured us that little hut." It had been done at Shandra's suggestion. Dee overheard her mutter to Sand that Dee was irritable because she needed to get laid, and he had tittered and replied, 'I believe I have just the spell.'

That bittersweet memory gave her a twinge of grief, but she found she wasn't bursting into tears or fighting them off when she thought of Shandra anymore. In the first days after Shandra's death the idea of love-making had seemed disrespectful. Yet how many tomorrows would she have? Sir Nevalle's assertion that she could be the next hero of Neverwinter terrified her more than she was ready to admit to anyone because she had read enough history to know that more often than not, the hero dies at the final battle. So she snuggled into his embrace, nuzzled his neck and whispered, "I _am_ tired, but I need you, Cas, that is if you're not too tired. We won't have as much time in the coming days to slip off by ourselves anymore, but we need to seize the time we do have together."

Her otherwise restful sleep was marred by another nightmare of falling rocks, but she didn't wake screaming this time and thus didn't wake him (Cillian woke up, but he was used to her nightmares by now and went back to sleep once he saw there was no danger). She shook it off and sat up with her legs drawn up to her chest and her arms wrapped around her knees, crying silently for a while then lay back beside him, holding him tightly as if she feared he would be snatched away from her.

In the morning they dressed and made a breakfast of an apple tart Duncan made from Rhetta's recipe (it had turned out to be one of the most popular items on his menu) that they had been too full to eat the night before. No one was there but Khelgar, who had been helping Duncan haul kegs of stout off a delivery wagon into the storeroom, though Duncan grumbled that there wouldn't be much need to buy more provisions if the customers left. Casavir followed to help Khelgar while Dee went to let Cillian out the back. She looked for Karnwyr too, but he wasn't at his usual spot waiting for Bishop.

Duncan paused with a bag of flour hoisted across his shoulders as she called for the wolf. "He's not here, lass. Bishop came by early for him while we were just getting breakfast started. Told me he was bored of this shite hole of a city and was heading out early. I told him what you told the others last eve about Lord Nasher's orders, and he just cursed about not following orders and left."

Dee shrugged and tried to hide the sting from the disappointment that the ranger apparently wasn't as tamed as she had believed as she fell into her old pattern of justifying his behavior. "Not surprising. The city gets to him. He's not much of a pack animal either despite traveling with a wolf. Kinda ironic, I'm the one with the solitary companion and he has the wolf. I guess I can fill him in when we get back to the Keep if...if he's there. It's like I told the others. Lord Nasher's orders were for me, not them." Yet she also felt annoyed that she and Neeshka were going to have to share scouting duties. "I'm going to have to try harder with him," she thought. "There must be something I'm not doing. I've got to do more, or pray more for him or something. I won't give up on him."

Duncan was lugging a barrel of salt pork into the storeroom as she can Cillian came back in, and she went to help him and get her mind off Bishop. She tried to make light of the coming evacuation. "What about you, Uncle? You could come to the Keep until the danger is past, or mayhap take a vacation? When was the last time you did that?"

He made a sour face and scoffed at the very idea. "Vacation? Me? Saw enough of the world during my adventuring days, lass. I've no mind to travel anymore." But he glanced at the street urchins who still worked for him and frowned worriedly. "I should send that lot off to Waterdeep though. I've still got some old contacts. Probably very old by now I suppose, but I could send 'em. I can give 'em enough coin to last them until they find work, and I'll write out letters of reference."

One of them, a ginger-haired boy named Glen who had become quite a good cook since he had been allowed to work at the tavern, heard him and growled, "I'm not goin' anywhere unless you go too, boss. And I think the others will agree with me."

Dee put an arm around his shoulder. "What about you, Uncle? You can't stay. I know there's no way the Watch has enough manpower to force everyone to leave the city, but the danger is very real. I've seen what the King of Shadow did to West Harbor. People were just...dead in their tracks. Most of them except for Brother Merring and Georg didn't even look like they knew what hit them." She shuddered at the horror and fought back tears. "These city walls won't protect you, and neither will hiding out in your boarded-up tavern. And besides, truth be told, I have enough to worry about without adding you to the list."

He gave her a guilty look about that. Sand had been teasing her again last night about how she was much too young for the worry line she was developing between her eyebrows, and he was right. He took her hand. "Come along here, lass, and you too, Glen. I've got somethin' to show you." The boy looked up from peeling a potato and grumbled about having to put on the stew for the luncheon crowd, but Duncan silenced him with a look and led them to the cellar.

He lit a lantern hanging on a hook and led them into the storeroom then through a trapdoor and down stairs to a small cellar that was used for cold storage, where he moved a few crates aside. He stared at the wall for a few minutes rubbing his chin before he knocked on it in three places, which sprang open a secret door. He grinned at them and explained, "The previous owner did a bit of smuggling, so he had these built to hide his contraband in case he got raided."

Dee grinned back as she examined the mechanism. "Did he show them to you when you bought the tavern?"

Duncan chuckled. "No, I worked for him before I bought the tavern. I did a bit of smuggling too. Don't give me that look, lass, that's all in the past." He led them inside a small room filled with what looked like more empty crates and barrels. As he peered at the wall he muttered, "Now where is it?" Dee looked at the boy, who shrugged at her and turned back to Duncan. Finally he found yet another hidden compartment, a smaller one this time, and reached inside. He drew out a heavy woolen coat, a glowing cutlass, and then something that looked like a large piece of canvas folded into a triangle. "Here it is! It's a boat left over from my adventuring days. Kept it in case I needed to make a quick escape some day. I just have to teach the lad here and the others how to sail."

Dee raised an eyebrow as the boy looked at Duncan like he had lost his mind, but she had enough experience with magic to know that her uncle wasn't ready to be hauled off to the asylum. "I've heard of those. That's a folding boat, isn't it?" Glen also leaned closer muttering 'folding boat?' and stared at the bundle now that his interest was piqued.

He grinned at them and held it closer for them to see. "Aye, it is, lass. Say the command word and it expands to the size of a coaster, which is big enough since we don't plan to go too far out to sea, and it will hold me and Glen and the other four too, that is if they don't decide to get out on one of the caravans first! I only hope I remember how to sail it after all these years."

She looked wide-eyed from it to him. "You were a mariner, Uncle Duncan?"

He chuckled heartily. "Well you knew I wasn't always a tavern keeper. I was restless and wanted to see a bit o' the world before you were born. Hells, I suppose it was almost before your mother was born. When I was a lad about this one's age, I signed on a ship for a few years and sailed all over the world. There was a mage in Lantan we rescued from pirates who made these for me an' the captain. It was even useful a few times on land for shelter over the years. I think your mother might have slept in it once when we were on one of your father's errands." He pointed across the room. "Now down there's another door that leads to a tunnel and out under the dock. All we have to do is get her in the water at high tide. We can have our packs ready to go and a few barrels of fresh water and ale down here, and I'll show the lad how to make a barrel of sea biscuits. Those things will keep for years. So you see, you don't you worry yourself on our account."

Dee looked a bit mollified and gave him a hug. "Just don't you wait too long, Uncle. Lord Nasher got reports that there are thick black clouds that hang over the claimed lands. Watch for them in the south, and promise me you'll leave as soon as you see them, for the King of Shadows' army won't be far behind. Now I better get back upstairs before Cas comes lookin' for me."

All too soon Sir Nevalle arrived at the tavern, crisply dressed in a hip length black velvet doublet with a high collar and wide bell-shaped sleeves that fell almost to his knees, and red and cobalt blue silk parti-colored hose that molded to his muscular legs. He also sported a rather large mirrored silver codpiece, and Dee blushed as she fought the urge to stare at it. He was looking around the tavern in barely disguised distaste as if he was afraid something was going to soil his clothing. "Let us be off, if you are ready. As I told you yesterday, Mother abhors tardiness." He turned on his heel and walked towards the door.

Dee bit back a chuckle and gently nudged Casavir and drew his attention with her eyes to a bruise on the side of his neck that winked out at them along the top of Sir Nevalle's collar. She whispered to Cas, "I would never have figured His Grace for a biter. No wonder Sir Nevalle's so chipper." Casavir nudged her with his elbow, though she noticed he suppressed a chuckle too.

Dee led the way into the Merchant Quarter to _Filine's Special Sizes Shoppe, _one of the only places in the quarter where she could get clothing to accommodate her height without having them custom tailored or settling for men's clothing. She had assumed that the men would part company with her there, but they both had other ideas. Nevalle intended to approve her selection and hurry her along, while Casavir sat stoically with a few other bored-looking men on comfortable chairs provided for them. But after a clerk held up some things in view of the men in the chairs hoping to get their attention, one man after another got up and wandered over, and finally Casavir had a few purchases of his own in mind. He shyly perused the nightgowns and small clothes offered for his approval by the silver-haired grandmotherly clerk, which only added to his embarrassment, nodding quietly when he saw something he liked. Dee, meanwhile, pawed through the racks and muttered, "I can't believe I'm wasting time shopping with all we have to do. The only thing I should be buyin' today is another pair of spectacles and what supplies I need for the Keep."

Casavir murmured in agreement though he didn't take his eyes off something sheer and lacy the clerk held up for him. Sir Nevalle snatched an a emerald green jerkin away from an indignant looking half-orc with a half-apologetic, "Not your color, my dear, and you've got too much bosom for it to hang right anyway. Here, try this orange one." He paired the jerkin with a white cotton sateen shirt with blackwork embroidery on the neck and cuffs and handed them to Dee. "These will do. You certainly will have little time to shop after today, so I would suggest you get what you need now and don't feel guilty about it."

She changed in the fitting room, and Casavir paid for hers and his own selections, flushing crimson as Sir Nevalle came up beside him holding something he found to surprise Torio Claven with. Nevalle looked on, lips pursed in thought as Casavir's purchases were being wrapped, then stretched up and said quietly, "Might I suggest surprising her with that leather corset there and some silk stockings. And a riding crop. She seems the type." But before Casavir could reply that a leather corset wasn't to _his_ taste because he was too distracted trying to figure out what a riding crop had to do with it, the half-orc overheard Sir Nevalle and beat him to said corset, flashing him a tusky grin of triumph as she snatched it off the display.

They had just enough time to get Casavir a new oxblood red cloak, which contrasted nicely with her jerkin (and for Dee to repay him by selecting some men's small clothes suggested by Sir Nevalle) and stop by the temple of Gond to order her two new pairs of spectacles so she could take a spare and still have one at the Keep, before they made their way to the Nevalle estate in the Blacklake District. There weren't as many people leaving today as there were last night when morning came with no sign of any further attack, but there were clusters of concerned citizens gathered before the temple of Tyr asking questions about the evacuation. As Dee scanned the crowd, she spotted that strange blond woman again, and there was no doubt this time she was staring at her. Dee stared back for a moment, scowled and said, "I'm gonna find out what the hells she wants with me," but Sir Nevalle grabbed one arm and Casavir the other arm and held her back. Sir Nevalle hissed, "Later. We will be late!"

They arrived at the estate, the perfectly manicured grounds of which rivaled the nearby park, and were told by the butler who showed them in that the tea was to be served in one of the small parlors. Sir Nevalle was visibly relieved because this meant his mother had decided not to subject Dee to the vicious scrutiny of the cream of Nevewintan society as she would have if she had decided that Dee was simply a social climber. Sir Nevalle looked about grimly; he had observed as he led them through the hall that the servants were going about their duties as if nothing was amiss, and there were no signs at all that anyone was planning to leave the city. No one was packing or covering the furniture. He whispered, "It's as I feared. They're not taking the attack seriously as a threat to anyone but Lord Nasher."

Dee looked around in astonishment as they entered the room that was considered one of the 'small' parlors, as it was as big as the War Room at the Keep. Casavir was seated across from Dee at a long, narrow table made of a deep reddish wood from Chult Sir Nevalle told her was called 'mahogany.' Dee was seated between Sir Nevalle and his unmarried older sister Giselle (unmarried by choice according to the gossip, as she was both beautiful and rich), who was approaching spinsterhood and now served as a companion for their mother and painted pictures of children and dogs in her spare time. The only other company was an elderly neighbor who was also a widow and a bit deaf, and a nephew, a boy of fifteen with long blond pressed curls framing a feminine handsomeness who was to be squired to Sir Darmon soon. Sir Nevalle gave his mother, sister, and the neighbor each a peck on the cheek before taking his seat. The meal consisted of three kinds of tea served in delicate porcelain cups that looked to Dee as if they would shatter if she pressed her lips too hard against them, and a variety of small sandwiches, cakes, tarts, and breads with jam and cream.

Lady Nevalle had left from Dee's vigil to get out of her stylish but uncomfortable wooden platform shoes and soak her bunions, but word had quickly come of the attack. She delivered her judgment to her nephew as she buttered a currant-studded scone that having such a ruckus as took place at Dee's knighting should not be done and advised against any similar displays in the future. Dee flushed in irritation and was about to reply that she certainly didn't _plan_ for Castle Never to be attacked when Casavir nudged her with his foot under the table just as Sir Nevalle hissed, "Here, try this," and shoved a tongue sandwich into her mouth.

She dug her nails into her palms as she bit her tongue and chewed the sandwich too, then remembering she was a guest, and after she swallowed the tidbit took a deep breath, smiled sweetly, and kept her replies to Lady Nevalle's questions about her life simple—"Yes, Ma'm, I am a bastard," "Yes Ma'm, I really was a farmer," or "No, Ma'm, I suppose I have no feminine social refinements at all,"—during the interrogation that followed until Lady Nevalle peered at her and said flatly, "I must say you're certainly not the brilliant conversationalist that your mother was."

Dee had had about enough and replied tersely, "I wouldn't know, she died when I was two,"and received a nudge from Nevalle and Casavir as well as Sir Nevalle's sister on her other side. For the most part she resolved to get through this and consoled herself by eating her fill of the small lemon tarts and a variety of crustless sandwiches (which she had to admit were delicious—she tried at least one of every kind) though Casavir nudged her again and discreetly shook his head when she reached across the table to take another of the sandwiches with salmon filling rather than wait for the maid to serve her. Rhetta hadn't taught her that when she taught her to drink tea, but then Rhetta hadn't had two servants standing by to serve her either.

Lady Nevalle cut her son off curtly when he brought up the subject of evacuation and refused to allow any discussion of the matter, though Dee could see the fear in his sister's eyes. "I managed to survive the war with Luskan with only three servants, and I shall survive this one as well. Besides, your father is buried here, and who will tend to his grave? No, I am quite resolved. We will speak of this no further. Now, Gilles, there are a few young women I want you to meet before you run off again that I think have definite possibilities for you."

Sir Nevalle sighed deeply because he knew she would never give up trying to find the 'right' woman for him and this was a tactic she used when she wanted to end a conversation that wasn't going her way. He wished that Casavir hadn't been there so he could have implied he was interested in Dee. He was confident she would have played along, and his mother deserved it.

Casavir had been quiet until now concentrating on helping Dee, but he took the opportunity to try another approach with Lady Nevalle. He broke the awkward silence and asked if Lady Nevalle remembered his aunt, whom he had accompanied several times to the Nevalle estate for their Midwinter Festival balls and Midsummer Festival picnics when he was a boy. Lady Nevalle was one who always made a point of inviting the poorer among the local gentry to her parties, and she peered at Casavir at the mention of his aunt's name until she made the connection between the ruggedly handsome man beside her and the tall, awkward quiet boy she barely remembered, who in fact had been beneath her notice at the time.

He leaned closer, using his paladin ability to calm. "She has been living in Marsember for several years now. She writes that the climate is almost always temperate, the latest Cormyran fashions can be had for a fraction of what they cost here, and the mud baths and the mineral water at the spa have cured her gout. Dee and I have discussed going there on our honeymoon." He blushed and paused to smile broadly at Dee, who blushed and smiled back. "Perhaps you and your daughter might consider a journey there and you could take the cure. I could write to my aunt, for she provides accommodations for persons of quality. But you would want to leave soon before it becomes too hot for the overland part of the journey." Sir Nevalle and his sister both looked like they could kiss him as she agreed to consider the possibility.

After Lady Nevalle declared the tea to be over with a barely perceptible glance at the servants, who began clearing away the dishes at once, Dee and Casavir thanked her for her hospitality, and she gave Dee the name of a tailor for their wedding clothes, admonishing her that she must wear satin, for nothing else would do for a bride. They walked with Sir Nevalle to Castle Never to retrieve Blossom from the castle's stable. Sir Nevalle was subdued, thinking about his return to the Keep in the morning and leaving Nasher again when things were going so well between them. Nasher had agreed that he could continue his dalliance with Torio Claven, though he mainly saw this as a way of getting more information out of her. He thought about something disturbing Torio had related to them after her capture—that one of Dee's companions had been providing information to Black Garius. She insisted she didn't know who as Lorne had been the one who had been the contact, but he had his suspicions, and Nasher wanted the information withheld from Dee for now.

As she and Casavir led Blossom and walked back through the Merchant Quarter, Dee felt a prickling on the back of her neck and stopped in her tracks and looked around. She wasn't surprised to see _her_, still staring at her like she was weighing her soul. Dee turned to Casavir. "There she is again!"

He looked at the woman then closed his eyes and called on Tyr's power. "I don't detect any evil intent. Perhaps we should ignore her. It could simply be a coincidence that she keeps crossing your path."

"No, 'tis no coincidence, and I'm tired of this. I'm going to see what she wants." She tossed Blossom's lead to Casavir, who tried in vain to stop her. Dee strode up to her and stopped a few feet away with her arms folded across her chest, close enough to speak, but not so close as to offer a challenge. The woman was as tall as she, with hair that was nearly white and faint swirling lines on her forehead and in the hollows of her cheeks. She had the lean, strong build of a warrior and reminded Dee of Kana. "Is there something I can do for you? You've been watching me, or so it has seemed to me the past day."

The woman was a picture of serenity as she calmly explained herself. What she wanted was simple. She introduced herself as Light of Heavens and asked if Dee was to fight the shadows, or join them.

"I aim to stop the King of Shadows, if that's what you mean."

She offered a series of three challenges, and if Dee met her challenges, she would offer her services at the Keep. Dee shook her head incredulously as Casavir walked up beside her. "You want to fight me here, now? I don't even have my armor." She was wearing her swords because after the attack at the castle, she vowed she would never be unarmed again, but she was cursing herself for leaving her brigandine at the tavern.

The woman smiled tightly. "I will not make this offer again, Dierdre Farlong, and I must warn you that you will need my help in the coming battle. However, I will go easy on you this first time since you were unprepared for my challenge."

Dee turned to Casavir. "What do you think, love?" The idea of dueling the stranger right here in the middle of the Merchant Quarter for some mysterious aid to be determined later seemed mad, but then again so did most of what she had been asked to do lately.

"I sense no evil intent, my lady, and she wears the symbol of Lathander. Perhaps she _has_ been sent to help us. If you wish to accept her challenge, I will serve as a referee." He lay his hand on her shoulder and uttered a prayer to Tyr, calling the god's protection around her.

Dee closed her eyes as she felt Tyr's power form a shield around her. "Very well, but not here. Let us get off the street and fight in the courtyard of that boarded-up house." She pulled a worn leather pouch that she had found in a hidden compartment in her desk at the Keep from her boot and reached inside, concentrating and willing a potion of _Barkskin_ inside to the top. She grimaced as she swallowed the potion, which did taste of bark and dirt, and waited a moment for it to take effect. She drew her swords and nodded at Casavir, and the stranger nodded as well and drew her sword.

Casavir looped Blossom's lead around a low hanging branch of a tree and picked up a fallen branch off the ground as a makeshift quarterstaff. "By Tyr, I reserve the right to stop the fight if either of you are badly wounded. If I call 'hold,' you are to go to opposite ends of the courtyard." He stepped back , holding the staff out horizontally. "If you are both ready, lay on."

The woman charged faster than Dee expected, and almost at once she sent Dee's short sword flying from her hand. Dee cursed and thought "She's taking it easy on me?" as she followed up with with a series of blows that the woman easily blocked. The woman countered with another blow that sent her long sword flying just as she got close enough to grab her short sword without giving the woman an attack of opportunity. She dodged and rolled and grabbed her long sword. The woman had mastered the disarm technique, but Dee had a ranger's grace and used it to dodge the woman's blows. She also managed to punch her in the jaw the next time she was down to one sword and their blades were locked.

They fought for what seemed like an hour until they were both out of breath and their arms were leaden before the woman raised her hand and gasped, "Enough. You have passed this test. I will find you when it is time for the second test." She walked away without another word. Dee stood hunched over with her hands on her thighs trying to catch her breath as she watched her go. "Hells, she _was _good. I wouldn't mind havin' her to spar with, though I'm not lookin' forward to another fight like that."

Casavir dropped the stick and ran up beside Dee. "Yes, she seemed to be a formidable fighter. Come, my lady. Let's get back to the tavern and have Sand cast a mending spell and one of those clean spells on your jerkin before Sir Nevalle sees it."

Bishop stepped lightly over a log and whistled for Karnwyr, who came bounding out of the brush and ran up beside him and licked his hand. His heart felt as light as his step the further he got away from the city and all the chains tying him to _her_ and her suicide mission. For that's what it was; it was clear to him now, so let her die. She was nothing more than this year's martyr. And why? Would anyone even care or remember when it was all done and she was rotting in some crypt? Maybe they would bury her with all the other dead heroes, maybe even raise a statue to the fallen hero that will be covered with pigeon shit within a year like all the others. But he wouldn't be around to see it. He paused to look around the forest for signs that anyone else was there, but they hadn't seen anyone for hours. Why hadn't he done this before?

He thought back on the previous night. He had debated for a few minutes before he decided the whore didn't deserve to die like that. Most likely she would be dead from the effects of the drug and drink before long anyway. She wasn't like the street thugs he hunted when he was stuck in the city and bored of life, though she did deserve the pain he gave her for what she said about him and the paladin. He had a thin vial containing a healing potion that he kept in his belt pouch for emergencies, not that it would go far to mend the kind of wounds he got lately. But it was more than enough for a common whore. He slipped a hand behind her head and pulled her up then got in behind her and leaned her head back and slowly poured it in her mouth a few drops at a time. He thought he would have to make her swallow but she wasn't that far gone, so her natural reflexes took over. It took several minutes to get it all down, but by the time she finished, the ugly purple mottling on her throat was fading and her breathing was steady.

He lay her back on the bed and sat back on the chair. She came to with a start, grabbing at her throat. He sat there calmly watching her and drawled, "I was just about to leave. I don't know what you were smoking, but it sure knocked you out cold. You were thrashing around in your sleep quite a bit too. Must've been some bad dream you were having. You really should quit that shit."

She nodded at him while she watched him warily like a rabbit watching the shadow of a hawk. "Yeah...it was." Her travel bag on the floor next to the bed gave the lie to his words, but she wasn't stupid enough to call him on it and enrage him again. She sat up, thinking she had to tread carefully and only of how to get him to leave. She opted for the direct approach. "Anyway, that's all I remember about Casavir." She watched him out of the corner of her eye, ready to bolt for the door if need be.

He chuckled darkly, which sounded more like a low growl, watching her as if he could read her mind and knowing that she would never make it half way across the room if he didn't want her to, but he was tiring of this game already. He stood and stretched, feeling generous. "You leaving the city too?" He nodded at the travel bag. He walked across the room to the door and stood in front of it, taunting her, then tossed her a small blue gem. "Here, this should get you all the way to Baldur's Gate and give you enough to live on if you want. Won't be long before Waterdeep won't want any more of Neverwinter's refugees." He saw her snatch the gem off the bed as he opened the door and slipped outside. He figured she was smart enough to take his hint that she should get out of the city as soon as she could, and that would be one less thing tying him to Neverwinter.

After that he collected his pack and the mutt from the tavern and bought a bottle of whiskey from the bar and headed out of town towards the forest. The further he got the more it seemed madness now, staying around because of a debt he felt he owed Duncan for saving his ass. If anything, the more he thought about it the more he saw that Duncan owed _him _for stealing the death he had wanted and deserved. But it didn't matter now. Screw Duncan! Screw _Lady_ Dierdre. He chuckled coarsely. Not much of a lady in bed, but screw her, let the paladin have her. Screw him too for that matter. Screw the Keep, screw Neverwinter, screw Nasher, screw Luskan! Let the King of Shadows come and drag the lot of them to the hells! And screw Black Garius most of all. Let him just try to come to him now when he didn't know where he was. He threw back his head and shouted, "Go screw yourself, Black Garius, you fucking pansy." He laughed loudly and Karnwyr licked his hand again, glad to see his bonded companion so happy even if he didn't understand why.

They had been traveling all morning at a steady pace and had made a fair progress deep into the Neverwinter Woods. He wasn't sure where he was headed yet other than as far away from Neverwinter and the Keep as he could get. His plan was to get far out of Neverwinter territory before he let himself stop, out past the Trade Way, then maybe camp out for a while, find a cave or build a shelter and stock it with game for the winter then move on in the next spring. He had seen the map and knew how far the Ilfarn lands extended, and he was confident that the King of Shadows didn't have any designs on lands outside of those boundaries, though no one else wanted to listen to his opinion. But all he had to do was get past those boundaries and he would be free. It occurred to him that he wouldn't even have to worry about pursuit once everyone behind him was dead.

He stood and stretched, took a few more steps, and then doubled over from a sudden pain radiating from his gut and wracking his entire body. It felt like something was tearing him up from the inside trying to get out. He dropped to his knees it was so bad, and he bit his lip to stop himself from screaming. But after several minutes of the torture he fell face forward on the ground and screamed until he was out of breath. The pain subsided though it still came in spasms, just not as bad as the first onslaught. Karnwyr licked at his face in concern. His first thought was that he ate something bad, but that was usually followed by fire in bowels and a sudden need to empty them until he felt like they would come out too. Had the wench poisoned him? Not likely, but he recalled drinking her whiskey while he was trying to decide what to do with her. But why keep a poisoned bottle around? He tried to push himself off the ground and struggled to his feet. Wiping the sweat from his forehead and almost overcome with a sudden wave of fear, he tried to play it off. "Huh. That was strange," to Karnwyr, who sat on his haunches with his head cocked to the side watching Bishop. "Come on boy, let's get moving."

He took two more steps before the pain returned, but this time as he fell to his knees, a familiar shape materialized before him. Karnwyr snarled and flattened his ears. "Where do you think you're going, ranger? Your pain has summoned me and tells me you're trying to escape our arrangement, and it will only become worse before you finally pass out. In case you haven't figured it out yet, I placed you under a geas when you first approached us last year. I could let you die slowly in agony, but you're still of use to my master. And if by chance you work up the nerve to try to escape by taking your own life, think again. The geas won't allow it, you see. You will return to the Keep and continue giving your regular reports. For now you will tell me what news you have of Nasher's plans following our attack."

Bishop resisted, but the pain was too strong, as was the urgency to obey the geas. He didn't know any more than what Duncan had told him on his way out of town this morning, but he freely told what he knew as Garius listened impassively. "That's it." He wanted to scream his outrage until his voice gave out, but he wouldn't give Garius the satisfaction. But someone was going to pay.

Garius nodded, and his image wavered slightly. Bishop guessed the spell must be ending soon. "Very well. Your next assignment is to discover who else amongst the shard-bearer's company might be turned against her. You spoke of the sorceress..."

Bishop shook his head, grateful that the pain was subsiding, but plotting revenge. "Yeah. She wants power more than anything, but she's too stupid to be trusted to keep her mouth shut. But she might turn in the end if you play her right. But there might be another..."


	30. Stalking the Wily Wendersnaven

Note: As usual, none of the characters are mine except a bear lovin' ranger and an occasional NPC.

Chapter 30 Stalking the Wily Wendersnaven, or When Bevil Met Katriona

Back at the Keep, Kana was in her office conferring with Katriona about training the new Greycloaks who had just been recruited from the nearby villages. "And don't forget we will be receiving even more new recruits from Neverwinter soon, which reflects the Captain's status as a knight of the realm. But I'm afraid we don't have nearly enough of you sergeants to train and supervise them. You're stretched too thin patrolling the roads and the surrounding lands as it is to maintain the rigorous training regimen the Captain desires for them."

Katriona nodded in understanding. "I wouldn't mind getting a day off every now and then either." She hadn't had more than an afternoon to herself in the past _two_ tendays. "Don't get me wrong; compared to the way we lived outside Old Owl Well in a constant state of war, our life here is almost leisurely. But it would be nice to have a day for myself with no responsibilities."

Kana, who almost never took any time for herself (nor had it even occurred to her that she should), frowned as she considered that. "I suppose you're right. Some relief from your duties would refresh you. Be that as it may, I have a mind to promote two of the corporals who came from West Harbor. That way, it won't appear that the Captain, I mean the _Knight Captain,_ has a bias towards her fellow Harbormen if I do it while she's away. And there's another Harborman who came with the survivors...the _troops_ reassigned from Fort Locke. He comes highly recommended by his sergeant there who feels he should be given a commendation for valor in battle. Like the other two, he was part of the West Harbor militia, so he's been very well trained. Would you like to meet him and give me your opinion of him?"

Katriona arched an eyebrow, standing at ease and leaning back against the wall with her arms folded across her chest. Kana didn't usually ask for her advice concerning promotions. She said matter-of-factly, "Despite that, I get the feeling that there's something you're not telling me. You're not sure about him. What's he lacking?"

Kana said tersely, "Walk with me." Katriona followed Kana out of her office and through the audience hall. She nodded at the guards at the doors who saluted as they passed through. Once outside she confided quietly as they walked, "His fighting skills are solid, but there's something...I don't know, it's hard to explain...something _lacking_ in him, as you put it, something that I can't put my finger on. Sometimes he's just not here." She thought about it for a moment, her brow furrowed in thought, before she continued. "He's like an ill-balanced blade, if you understand that."

Katriona nodded as she perceived Kana's real concern. "And you're afraid that he'll snap in the middle of a battle like an ill-made blade if too much stress is put upon him. Yet he's already proved himself at the Battle of Fort Locke, so that's worth something. Could it be losing his family is what's bothering him? Knowing they were killed after he left them is bound to be weighing heavily on his conscience."

Kana thought for a moment. "That about sums up my misgivings, but I suspect there's more to his story. I'd like you to meet him and get him on the practice field then talk to him and give me your own unbiased opinion of him so I can make a decision before the Knight Captain returns."

Kana led the way to the larger of the the two buildings that served as barracks for the male Greycloaks. A smaller building beside it housed the female Greycloaks, and another building was under construction nearby as well. She nodded at the off-duty Greycloaks who jumped off their bunks and snapped to attention as they passed, and they made their way across the large room. She looked around then indicated some Greycloaks gathered around a large copper basin in the back of the room near the privy. "That's the one standing over there: the tall, husky one with the broad shoulders." The man in question had his back to them while he and a few others were shaving, crowded around a small mirror.

Katriona thought she saw something familiar in his posture and his shaggy mop of sandy hair. She leaned close to Kana and whispered, "There _must_ be something in the water in West Harbor to grow them so big, the Captain, I mean _Knight Captain_ included. We should have Aldanon investigate it. We could bottle it and make a fortune!" Kana chuckled dryly. Katriona stopped in her tracks as she realized where she had met him before, though it had been quite dark then. She whispered to Kana that she had met him while they were in West Harbor the previous autumn, though she omitted the part about finding him hiding in the barn. As they approached, Kana called out, "Corporal Starling, a word."

Bevil spun, dropped his straight razor into the basin, and immediately snapped to attention as they walk up, as did the other three men shaving beside him. Katriona saluted sharply then smiled warmly at him. "At ease, men. I remember you, Corporal Starling. It was...Bevil, wasn't it? Glad to see you decided to enlist after all."

He flushed shamefully at the memory of that meeting and looked down at his feet for a moment. "Yes, sergeant, I thought about it for a while after that recruitment speech you gave, and then I told my ma I had a mind to go to Fort Locke and sign up." He looked back at the floor, struggling with the painful emotions that threatened to overwhelm him at the mention of West Harbor and his family.

Kana nodded at him and redirected the conversation. "Yes, Katriona does have quite a knack for recruitment," and she thought, "But her skills would be much more useful to us leading patrols through the surrounding lands." But it was up to the Captain to change her assignment. She turned her attention back to Bevil. "The sergeant here is looking for a sparring partner for a few rounds of practice, if you're not too tired." She assumed that he and the other off-duty Greycloaks were shaving in anticipation of making a visit to the _Ginger Cat_. Kana hadn't approved of the festhall when the Captain informed her of her intention to allow one at the Keep, but she had to agree that since then it had provided a convenient venue for the soldiers to blow off steam and had cut down on the fraternization between them as well as between the Greycloaks and the local farm girls and boys, much to the dismay of the latter.

Bevil was indeed planning on going there with his friends, but he wasn't in search of feminine company tonight. He had yet to partake of the charms of the staff, and in truth, if it hadn't been for Aimee, he would likely still be a virgin. He went there because the Widow Jons was someone he could talk to when he missed his home and his mother, as he did tonight. But he didn't want to turn down the offer of practice either. For one thing, they did need all the practice they could get. Because of his militia experience he could feel the coming war in his bones, unlike most of the other 'Cloaks. And the sergeant had kept his confidence, so he owed Katriona a favor. If she hadn't, Dee surely would have come storming into the barn after him that night. He wiped the soap off his face with his towel. "I would be happy to, Sergeant. Let me get my armor back on, and I'll meet you on the practice field."

They sparred with practice blades and shields for a good hour timed by the large water clock at the top of The Nine's tower. They then switched to a mace and a war hammer respectively, explaining to the 'Cloaks who had gathered to watch how edged weapons were less effective against skeletons. Finally, fighting back to back they accepted challenges from the 'Cloaks. He was very good, and she noted that he had a natural ability to teach as he patiently explained a shield block technique, going over it several times until the Greycloak he was instructing could repeat it to his satisfaction. Katriona decided as she watched him that it was a terrible waste of his skills not using him to train the fresh recruits, some of whom were so green that they had never even held a weapon before they arrived. That alone was justification to recommend his promotion.

Katriona called for a break for water. She drained a dipper handed to her by one of the Greycloaks then plunged it back in the rain barrel and handed it to Bevil. "You're pretty good! And I've really worked up an appetite. Have you eaten yet?"

The mention of food made his stomach rumble loudly and answered her question, and he flushed crimson as she chuckled. He said shyly, "I was going to have supper at the _Ginger Cat_ tonight." He paused for a minute looking down at the ground then met her eyes. "But just supper. Would you like to come along? The Widow says that scout, Bishop's his name? Anyway, he's hunted a lot of game the last few days and traded some at the festhall for..." He looked down and blushed again. "So the Widow's serving roasted haunch of venison and new potatoes tonight."

Katriona had only been to the festhall once since it opened to celebrate one of the other sergeant's birthdays; it was too fancy for her tastes, and she didn't feel the need for the _other_ services provided there. But she hadn't had such cute company before. He _was_ cute, and he seemed very sweet, but that wasn't the reason she would recommend him to Kana. She reminded herself to be objective, but it was hard when she saw the hopeful look in his eyes. "I'd like that, Corporal Starling. Let's get washed up and I'll meet you there. I have to check in with Lieutenant Kana first." As she walked to the Keep, she thought that she would have a quick word with the other sergeants too on her way back, and if they agreed, she would tell them to drop by the festhall later with Kana and have a drink to toast the new sergeants' promotions.

She planned to suggest Kana to have the Knight Captain talk to him about what was bothering him, and she had an idea already based on his behavior in West Harbor; his sense of shame that night in the barn had been almost palpable. At the time she felt it was due to his being Lorne Starling's brother, but the more she thought about it, the less likely she thought that was. And then the possible reason hit her, and she froze in her tracks outside Kana's office and gasped—she recalled the priest of Lathander told the Captain how Bevil had been savagely attacked by some unknown assailant one night not long after she left, attacked yet not robbed, and he had refused to talk to anyone afterwards about what had happened. "They must have tortured him for information about her," she realized with a deep feeling of horror. "No wonder he seems so ashamed." But she decided to keep her suspicions to herself. Maybe the Knight Captain could draw the story out of him. She rapped twice on the door to Lieutenant Kana's office and stepped in once Kana barked, "Enter."

Dee and her companions had gone by ship to Port Llast on one more quest for Lord Nasher—to arrange with Haeromos Dothwintyl, the captain of the local garrison, to provide shelter for some of the city's refugees, with the understanding that they would be escorted to Silverymoon if Neverwinter fell and Port Llast was evacuated as well. She found him very genial this time when she was there in an official capacity as Lord Nasher's emissary, decked out in the full regalia of her rank, unlike before the trial when she could tell he would have happily hanged her on the spot. As they walked away from the garrison headquarters and she was grumbling to Neeshka that her spurs were so jangly she felt like a belled cat, Casavir leaned close and whispered, "Don't look now, but your mysterious aasimar is standing just over there near the road out of town." Sand and Neeshka glanced in that direction to see the woman for themselves. Dee had told them about the strange encounter when they arrived back at the tavern.

Dee looked at him perplexed. "Hells, how did she manage to get here so fast? She wasn't on our ship. Can the woman fly or teleport? How did she know I would be coming here? This is giving me the shivers. I hate feeling like I'm bein' stalked!"

Casavir put his arm around her and rubbed the back of her neck. "Calm yourself, my lady. If you think about it, there are any number of people in Neverwinter who knew you were being sent here who would have seen no reason not to pass along the information to someone asking for you. And the ship was fighting a headwind yesterday, so we really didn't save much time getting here by ship rather than by horse. Besides, she may have been on our ship for all we know, but kept her presence there hidden from you."

She smiled at him and kissed his cheek then took his hand and turned towards the inn. "Thanks, love. You always know the right thing to say. I'll meet her challenge again, but I'm too tired tonight. I'll pretend I didn't see her until morning, and this time I'll be ready to face her with every spell we have available." She cast a hopeful glance at Sand and was tempted to summon Cillian too. She had sent the bear back to Meilikki's care until they finished their business in Port Llast, but the woman _had _said she could fight with any means at her disposal. But she thought better of it. The woman had offered three challenges, so she would save him for the last.

Sand pondered his repertoire of spells and the books he had brought with him. "I always have several _Stoneskin_ spells memorized as well as the usual physical enhancement spells, but I'll go through my spellbook tonight with an eye for something _unusual_ she's not expecting." The thought made him grin slyly like a naughty schoolboy.

They got rooms at the _Alliance Arms Inn_, and Dee was glad that the boy they rescued from the well in Ember wasn't around when they walked in. After avoiding the aasimar, she didn't think she wanted to deal with the child seer's visions. As they walked up to the bar, Sand surprised her by offering to share a room with Neeshka so Dee and Casavir could have a room together.

Sand tossed his hair in response to their puzzled looks, and Neeshka just shrugged. He explained, "Well why not? It's not as if we have any carnal interest in one another, erm...not that I'm saying she isn't an attractive woman." He cast a glance at the pouting tiefling. "But we don't. I need to study my spells tonight, and she's quiet. She knows better than to go through my pouches after that last nasty incident, and I'll rest better than I would assailed by Casavir's tossing and turning, Khelgar's snoring or Grobnar's incessant chattering and strumming his lute all night."

Neeshka giggled and added, "Yeah, and I'll sleep better without you tossing and turning all night because you're without your paladin pillow."

Sand nodded at her. "And furthermore, we won't have to feel guilty about you two casting sad, longing looks at one another all evening until you go your separate ways, and you'll be more ready to face the aasimar if you sleep well tonight."

Dee whispered to Casavir as they climbed the stairs to put their things in their room, "We're really not that bad, are we? Sure, at first mayhap, but 'tis not like we're at it all night every night." In truth, though the initial fire of their passion had burned down to glowing embers that they still easily fanned to a roaring blaze, they most often spent their evenings talking, reading, working her forge, practicing a routine of stretching exercises together he had learned at the temple, and trading massages to soothe their aching muscles. And he had discovered to his dismay that while giving her a back rub always put him in the mood, more often than not it put her into a sound sleep.

But his blush answered her question, and he stroked her cheek and said softly, "I believe we are, or at least so it seems to our companions who are alone, after all. But Sand is right. We do both of us sleep better when we are together. I've grown fond of my ranger pillow too."

She started to say defensively, "Yeah, and I'm not ashamed of seizing every moment I have left with you," but stopped herself, afraid of the discussion about their future that would provoke, or rather, lack of a future, that she wasn't ready to face. Instead she changed the subject. "Let's get something to eat. I'm as hungry as a bear in springtime."

She and Casavir slipped out the back door of the tavern after supper, with Casavir going first and glancing around to make sure the aasimar wasn't waiting outside the door, so Dee could stop by Nya's shop and see how she was doing. They were accompanied by Sand, Neeshka, and Grobnar, who had insisted they visit an odd pair of gnomes camped out behind Nya's shop. "They could point us the way to the Wendersnaven, I'm certain of it." He gave them that gentle, childlike smile that made it hard for her to deny him anything even though she knew very well she was being manipulated.

They gave in and followed Grobnar then stood by and listened while he engaged in one of the most bizarre conversations with the gnomes that Dee had ever heard; she tried to be patient and waited, and waited, and waited, and then waited some more, and then finally with an exasperated sigh she blurted out, "Grobby, I'm sorry, but this makes no sense at all!"

Sand rolled his eyes. "Thank you, dear girl. I must agree. I'm done with this silly Wendersnaven talk. Do we really have to endure more of what passes for gnomish philosophy? I think I shall go back and see if Nya would like to join us for a glass of wine. Neeshka, are you coming?" He took the tiefling's arm, not waiting for an answer, and turned with a swish of his robes.

One of the gnomes peered up at Dee and muttered, "These tall ones have so little patience. Why didn't she just ask us for the map?" The other one replied, "I think it's because they're so tall that it takes a very long time for the blood to travel to their brains."

Dee smacked her forehead and muttered something unintelligible and no doubt rude then took a deep breath and spoke through gritted teeth. "There's a map? Why didn't you say so?"

Grobnar watched Sand walk away, and then he nudged Dee so that she would drop down on her haunches to be closer to his height. Casavir knew his secret, but he could be trusted to keep it to himself, and he stood back a discreet distance and stood guard to make sure no one approached. Grobnar sighed deeply. "I thought he would never leave. Even I grow tired of hearing my silly chatter. Now Enleva and Noduab here," he waved his arm towards the gnomes, "are my Harper contacts. It would take too long now for me to explain the code they're using, so I'll fill you in later on the way back to Crossroad Keep. You've been with us long enough now for me to tell you one of our secrets—while the Wendersnaven areindeed ancient gnomish deities, it's also a secret code word used by undercover Harpers to recognize one another. Remember that if you're ever far away from home in a hostile land. Someplace like Thay, for example." He wrinkled his nose in disgust. "Awful place that, and always blaming The Harpers for their own failed political intrigues and misadventures. It's a place to avoid, if you can."

Dee chuckled. "I have no plans to visit Thay, but I'll remember that. Now I think you were saying something about a code? I assume there was a message in the code?"

Grobnar blinked at her. "Code? Now where was I? Oh yes, I remember! So if someone should bring up the Wendersnaven, or simply use the word casually in conversation for that matter, you've found an ally. Remember that."

Dee patted his shoulder then unfolded the map provided by the gnomes. "I'll remember that, Grobby." She grinned at him wryly. "Tell me, is it hard playing the fool all the time? I don't think I could pull it off."

He responded with a whimsical smile and patted her arm with just a hint of condescension. "I'm an _actor_, my dear, and Master Sand's reaction is proof I'm a very good one. I've never deluded myself that I was the romantic hero except amongst other gnomes, of course. On the other hand, 'fool gnome' is the part at which I excel! But then again, we're all actors. As the famous Bard of Suzail said, 'All the world's a stage, and the men and women on it merely players.' "

"Some of us play the heroic lead, some the villains, and some like me play the clowns, but some of us try to play what nature has made us ill-suited for. You're the leading lady of the play of your life, but you must study the script to discover whether you're part of a history, a comedy or a tragedy, or even a farce. Or one of the new ones—a tragicomedy such as is written by John the Fletcher, where things seem very bleak indeed until the last scene. But the problem is you're not given any of the script apart from your own lines, so you don't know who are the heroes and who are the villains until it's played out before you. And there are no dress rehearsals."

Dee chuckled. "I've never thought of life that way, Grobby. But what if I don't like the script? Can I change it so it suits me?" She had only seen one play while she lived in West Harbor, and that was only because an acting troupe had a wagon break an axle nearby, and they repaid the villagers' hospitality with a performance while they waited for a replacement.

But once she was living in Neverwinter, Grobnar dragged them to theaters at least twice a month. She recalled one time there was an announcement that the understudy would be playing the role of the leading lady; according to the rumors circulating around the theater, she had run off with an admirer and most of the company's funds. The understudy usually played supporting roles like maids or nurses because she did not have a leading lady's grace and beauty; she was very tall and clumsy, with a big nose and frizzy red hair and a thick northern accent. But she knew the lines by heart.

Halfway through the first love scene, the crowd started booing then throwing rotting vegetables. The poor woman ran off stage in tears, but after a short intermission during which all projectiles were collected from the audience, the play resumed. But when the actress reappeared on stage, she had stuffed a large pillow under her skirt, which gave her the appearance of being very pregnant. Between the double meaning her appearance gave to the most simple lines and the way she delivered hers, she transformed the play from a romance to a bawdy farce. She got two standing ovations, and the only thing thrown was flowers. So to Dee that was proof the script could be changed. Dee reminded Grobnar of the story and smiled.

Grobnar smiled placidly back at her then burst her bubble. "You can try, but that doesn't mean the other actors will follow your lead. After all, they have their own parts to play."

She met Casavir's eyes. He was standing just close enough to hear and trying not to laugh. She beckoned him over with a smile and asked Grobnar in an undertone, "So what are we really looking for, hmm? Is this something that's going to help us with the the King of Shadows, or is this just Harper business?" She was still angry that Cormick hadn't gotten any response to the information they had sent out on the Harper network, much less an offer of help, and it was making her rethink her association with the organization. She had almost tossed her Harper pin on his desk. Cormick had tried to shrug it off and blamed the ongoing schism in the Harper ranks that had led Blackstaff of Waterdeep to start a rival organization. She had argued that Blackstaff's group, the Moonstars, should be helping them too in that case, but the problem was few in Waterdeep were interested in Neverwinter's troubles as long as the King of Shadows was moving north rather than south.

Grobnar leaned back to look up at Casavir and nodded in acknowledgment as the paladin drew closer. He whispered, "We're looking for someone, but we're also looking for an artifact he was known to be carrying before he vanished that will help us in the struggle ahead. He's a bard who goes by "The Relentless Poet," and he was last known to be heading for an area not too far from here. All we have to do is look around and make a report of whatever we find and rescue him if we can. It won't take us long, I promise, though I'm afraid to say that people will begin to doubt your sanity and worthiness for leadership when they hear the cover story."

She snorted and patted him on the back. "Yeah. Like they're not already. Sometimes I question that too. Let's get up early, deal with the aasimar, and look for your bard. If the gods are with us we'll be back here to catch the ship back to Neverwinter by high tide and on our way to the Ironfist stronghold within the tenday." She hesitated for just a heartbeat glancing from Casavir to the gnome then continued. "Oh, and Grobby? About Sand...I trust him with my life. I understand there are some that fear he might be a double agent for the Hosttower, but I don't believe it, and I think he can be let in on the secret. But it's up to you."

Grobnar smiled serenely. "I'll bear that in mind." He watched her quietly as she stood and stretched out the stiffness from squatting for so long. Grobnar thought as he watched her, "Yes, but then you trust Bishop too and never question what is his part in the play, but when it's all said and done, one never knows how the plot will play out until the final curtain has dropped."

Casavir came up beside her and slipped an arm around her waist, and she put her arms around his neck and kissed him then pulled back to look at him. "You trust me, right love?"

He looked taken aback by the question. "Why would you even ask that, my lady?" He gazed into her eyes trying to read the answer there and regretting his promise that he would keep her confidence and not interfere.

"We're goin' to look for the Wendersnaven," she announced with finality.

He grinned slyly at her, mischief twinkling in his eyes. "The Wendersnaven. Very well, my lady. If you believe the story, that's enough for me, and it will have to be enough for the others. Now let us return to the inn before the aasimar spies us, where I shall resume my role of your ardent swain. Oh yes, I heard that much." He punctuated that by wriggling his eyebrows suggestively and followed up with a playful kiss.

She arched an eyebrow. "Ardent swain—is that a promise?"

The second challenge match had gone better than the first since she wasn't caught unawares this time. Sand, Grobnar, and Casavir had cast every spell they could think of on her beforehand that would enhance her fighting or protect her from injury. Neeshka even lent Dee her lucky coin and had gone scouting for the aasimar early. She returned with her tail twitching nervously and reported that the aasimar was still standing right where they saw her the evening before. "She hasn't moved! Doesn't she need to eat or sleep? Or pee?," she muttered to Sand.

Dee was in no mood for breakfast but sat down to eat a few eggs, toast and coffee Khelgar insisted she have, so Casavir went to inform Haeromos Dothwintyl about the contest lest he arrest them for creating a public disturbance. He was interested in the competition after hearing Casavir's explanation and wanted to see for himself, then offered to marshal the fight along with Khelgar, sending one of his men for two quarterstaves for them to use. Casavir stood back beside Sand and watched the competition this time, assessing the aasimar for flaws in her fighting style that Dee could exploit the next time they met.

She had gone over the last fight in her mind and figured out when the aasimar would try the disarm technique, so she had only lost her short sword this time and threw a handful of dirt in the aasimar's face to give herself time to retrieve it. This would be considered 'fighting dirty' by many of the spectators, not to mention by Dee herself, but she felt an urgency to win. Besides, she told herself she wouldn't hesitate on the battlefield to use every dirty trick she knew against an opponent.

They fought without a break, and Dee feared that after another powerful flurry of blows from the aasimar she was going to have to yield because the only thing holding her up at that point was sheer willpower. Dee's arms were throbbing in protest at raising her swords again and her legs felt like jelly. In fact she was afraid that if they didn't stop soon she was going to lose control of her bladder. Most of the spells cast on her had long since expired, and about the only thing keeping her going at all was her _Ring of Regeneration. _But her opponent looked as ragged as Dee felt, and that gave her hope and a new burst of energy, so she growled and rushed her. The aasimar stepped back from Dee's charge and shouted, "Enough! I yield." She promised to they would meet one last time and limped around a corner without another word, just like before. Dee thought she had detected just a shadow of a smile playing across her lips as she turned away. Neeshka tried to follow her, but she could find no trace of the stranger. "All right, maybe she _can _ fly," she muttered nervously to Sand.

But Grobnar's Harper rescue mission was not as successful. After searching for the rest of the morning in the glade indicated on the gnomes' map, they found the remains of the bard they were looking for as well as the orcs that had done him in, and his journal, which Grobnar quickly stashed away in his pack. But any artifact of wondrous power he might have been carrying was long gone. And then as Sand finished examining the remains and asked if he might see the journal, Grobnar threw himself on the ground, grabbed his foot, and groaned loudly—a bit too loudly Dee thought, but the others bought it, and it provided the distraction he desired. He insisted even more loudly he must have tripped over something lying there in the grass and felt around then held his empty hands up for the others to see the "Wenderkazoo" he claimed he had found. Dee played along as he acted as if he were playing the instrument. His distraction worked and Sand walked off to Neeshka and Khelgar in a huff, rubbing his temples while muttering about the insanity of gnomes being the bane of his existence.

They rode up to the Keep a few days later along the road that passed through the fields, where neat rows of spring plants shone brightly like emeralds in the rich black earth. Dee wasn't surprised to see the aasimar there down the road from Orlen's house, sword drawn, waiting for the third challenge. In fact Dee had expected her every day since they left Port Llast, and Sand had resorted to a _Sleep _spell at Casavir's urging the previous night as they camped because Dee was jumping at every sound. She slept peacefully sandwiched between Casavir and Cillian.

They had anticipated that morning when she hadn't yet made an appearance that the aasimar would be waiting at the Keep, and as soon as Neeshka leaned forward in her saddle, pointed and squealed "She's there!," Sand rode alongside and cast a _Spiderskin_ spell on Dee, which Casavir followed with a _Shield Other _spell. Grobnar trotted up on his pony to sing an inspirational song accompanied by the high-pitched humming that was his new "instrument." But fake instrument or not, his songs always did the trick.

Dee rode closer until they were just down the road from her before she drew her swords and bowed slightly, and the aasimar bowed in return. Dee studied her a moment as if trying to decide upon a course of action then muttered, "Let's do this," and spurred Blossom. The horse gave a startled kick and whinnied loudly, charging down the road towards their opponent, her ears flattened and her head lowered in battle mode as she had been trained, with Dee guiding her with her knees. Dee made a mental note that her master of horse deserved a hefty raise in pay for the training he had given her. The others followed but kept their distance. It was all Casavir could do to rein Thunder in, who didn't understand why he couldn't charge too. Some workers hoeing weeds looked over at the commotion, and one of them threw down her hoe and sprinted towards the gates to the Keep for help.

The startled aasimar had only enough time to parry one of Dee's blows as she rode past then nudged Blossom to turn tightly for another quick pass. Being mounted gave Dee a great advantage, but the contest was over as soon as Cillian, who had cut across a field and come around the other side of Orlen's house, plowed into the aasimar from behind, sending her sprawling face down into the dirt. He gently rolled his bulk against her to hold her down. Dee slipped off Blossom and assumed a defensive posture.

The aasimar struggled to get up, but there was no way she could get out from under the bear without doing some serious harm to the creature and more likely to both of them, and she could tell he was trying to avoid hurting her even as his paws with his razor-sharp claws held her down. She turned her head so she could see Dee and said calmly, "I assumed you would bring the bear into our contest, but I admit the mounted attack caught me by surprise. Very well then, I yield. I offer to serve you in any way you deem fit."

Dee waved off the Greycloaks who had run out of the gate then called Cillian, who rolled off the aasimar and bounded over to Dee's side. Casavir dismounted Thunder and ran to Dee looking for injuries. Sand was hard behind him with a couple of healing potions in his hands. Dee offered her hand to help her up. "Light-of-Heavens, was it? I gladly accept your offer of service. I could use another sergeant if you're willing." She wondered at the same time if the rank was beneath her as she took the potions from Sand and offered one to the aasimar. But she maintained the same serene expression, so Dee took that as acceptance of her offer. "Come along. I'll introduce you to Lieutenant Kana, and we'll figure out where best to assign you, and then Katriona can show you to your quarters."

She introduced her to the others as they walked into the Keep, leading the horses. Neeshka shook her hand excitedly saying she wanted to see if she got the same tingle that she got from Casavir and extracted a promise later to meet at the tavern so they could compare their diverse heritage. Dee's first thought was to assign her to training the new recruits, but she had an aura about her similar to Casavir's, and Dee was inspired to assign her to recruiting instead once Kana finished her training so Katriona would be free to be reassigned to training.

She would discuss it with Kana before they left for the Ironfist stronghold, but before that she would discuss it with Casavir tonight when they were alone in their chamber and they could talk freely. She had come to depend on him as a sounding board and a source of thoughtful advice who wasn't afraid to disagree with her even if that led to an argument (and he was calmly tenacious enough that he wouldn't let them go to bed without resolving their disagreement). If she was the captain, he was the unofficial co-captain of the Keep, and everyone knew it or quickly learned it.

Once inside the outer shell, she handed Blossom's reins to one of the hostlers, who had come running as the word spread that the Knight Captain had returned. She gave Blossom an affectionate pat on the flank before she was led off and apologized for the spurs. Casavir followed them to the stables because few of them could control Thunder, though he had made great strides with training the temperamental horse; no one had been injured by him lately. Grobnar scurried off to check on his beloved construct, Neeshka and Khelgar resumed their good-natured bickering and decided to race to the tavern with the loser buying the first round, while Sand declared his need of a hot bath and a goblet of wine before he could even think of dealing with Aldanon.

Dee paused at the fork in the path that led around the village. "I should report to Sir Nevalle first if he's back from Neverwinter before we speak to Kana. It won't take me long." She glanced towards the reconstructed tower where Sir Nevalle's personal banner would be hanging if he was in residence, and beyond it she recognized something familiar about a man outside the men's barracks talking with Katriona. She blinked and wiped her spectacles then looked again. "Bevil?" she murmured, then she ran towards the figure followed by Light-of-Heavens, shouting his name to get his attention when she got close enough to tell it was indeed him. She threw her arms around him, and after a heartbeat of hesitation, he laughed and returned the bear hug. The questions poured out, and she gave him little time to answer. "It's really you? Thank the gods! When did you get here? Do you know how worried I've been about you? And you're wearing the Grey! And a sergeant's star! Oh Bevil, it's so good to see you!"

She caught Katriona out of the corner of her eye watching them, her arms folded across her chest. Her expression was neutral, but she was betrayed by a twitch at the corner of her mouth and a flash of anger in her eyes that had Dee puzzled until she recalled seeing the same expression long ago outside Old Owl Well when Casavir declared his intention to follow her back to Neverwinter. Dee drew back and smiled warmly at Katriona. "I've just found you another sergeant. This is Light-of-Heavens. Could you find her a room in the women's barracks and show her around the Keep after I introduce her to Kana?"

She broke away from Bevil so he and Katriona could greet her. Dee watched Katriona, who had a definite gleam of possession in her eyes while Light-of-Heavens shook Bevil's hand. Dee put her hand on Katriona's shoulder. "Here I've been worried about getting you some more sergeants, and it looks like you've already found a good one for me." She leaned close and whispered, "Bevil's just like a brother to me. We were practically raised together. You would do me a great favor if you could watch over him." Dee smiled as she saw the look of relief in Katriona's eyes and resolved to have a talk with her later when she had time, no, whether she had time or not, and tell her how shy he was. Dee knew all about shy men and the special handling they took. But they were worth the extra effort.


	31. Just a Diplomatic Mission

Usual disclaimer: The characters are owned by a whole lot of people and not by me except an occasional NPC and a bear-lovin' ranger.

Note: This is a revised version after some very helpful suggestions. My thanks to Rhia and Niche for all their help.

No, you haven't missed a chapter, unless you have. I prefer to focus on the time between events of the OC, so this chapter is set the night before the party confronts the fire giants, a a couple of tendays after the last chapter. I also took liberties with a couple of the spells used in this chapter, which only those who play tabletop DnD would notice. Call it dramatic license, and certainly no worse than a godless ranger who nevertheless is able to cast clerical spells.

Chapter 31 Just a Diplomatic Mission...

Dee leaned against a boulder peering down the mountain at the fire giant camp that morning, not realizing how precariously it was balanced on the ridge. The boulder gave way and went crashing down the mountain, sending others with it. If Ammon Jerro hadn't caught her arm, she might have tumbled down the mountain with it. "They have to know we're here now," she grumbled. "So much for sneaking up on them."

Neeshka returned from scouting further up the trail and made her report. "Once you get over the top, there's a canyon below. It looks like we might be able to take the trail to get into the giants' camp from the other side. And I also spotted a cave up the trail up on that ridge. It could be a safe place to camp. Think we have time to check it out?" She grinned at Dee hopefully.

It seemed like a bad idea at first, but after Dee thought about it for as long as it took to take a drink of water, it seemed like a good idea to take a look inside since they were there and make sure they wouldn't have anything nasty following them from it to the fire giants and boxing them in between two enemies. Dee sent Cillian in ahead of them. Cillian raised up on his hind legs and sniffed the outside then gingerly stuck his head inside. "The most sensitive nose in all nature, right there," Dee whispered with pride to Casavir as she beamed at the bear. Cillian ambled inside and quickly sent Dee a message that the cave was uninhabited, at least as far as he could tell, and considerably bigger once he got past the entrance. So she stooped and went in after him holding Sand's magic light tube and discovered that about six feet in, the cave floor sloped downward before leveling off and widened to form a chamber big enough even for Casavir to stand up in and stretch his arms over his head.

The others joined them for a brief exploration. Dee, Neeshka, and Cillian explored further and found another chamber in the back of the first one connected by a short tunnel. This one was very large, and Sand speculated as he knelt to examine a glowing purple fungus and collect a sample of it, "I wouldn't be at all surprised if there was a passage leading into the Underdark somewhere in this cavern." But there were no other tunnels that they could find, though Elanee pointed out several large rocks that appeared to have once been stalactites blocking what might have been another passage.

There was even sweet water running down one wall from the surface, forming a stream wide enough to wash in before disappearing into a fissure across the chamber. Dee announced, "If this canyon turns out to be a dead end, we'll come back here and make camp for the night before we take the other trail and approach the giants directly." She quickly designated the rear chamber for sleeping and resting, while those on watch or who weren't ready to sleep would take up positions in the first chamber. With that settled, they got back on the trail and tried to make up for lost time.

They straggled back that evening exhausted but elated after their unexpected battle with the red dragon Tholapsyx, whose lair turned out to be hidden in the canyon. The cavern became cozy after Sand cast a few mage lights on pebbles and placed them behind large rocks and stalagmites, which gave the illusion of warmth and provided diffused lighting. Dee and Casavir claimed a private corner for themselves mostly concealed behind a large stalagmite before they began the first watch shift. Dee announced as her companions were setting up their bedrolls that they would take an extra day of rest and healing before approaching the giants. She felt they needed at least a day, and half of that was going to be spent figuring out how they were going to get a dragon's treasure hoard down the mountain.

It was quite a hoard, not that she had any experience with how big a dragon's hoard should be other than what she had read in books. She recalled that they had all been in shock that they were still alive, and how once the initial shock wore off and it sunk in that the dragon was truly dead, and once they had done what healing of their most serious injuries they could, only then had they given in to temptation and explored its lair. She had stuffed her bag of holdingwith gems Sand could use to enchant things for them while he was also filling his own bag. Neeshka had taught her to appreciate gems. They were much lighter than carrying a bag of gold and easier to hide, though their drawback was you often lost some of the value when selling them. And the dragon had plenty of them, even a few rare gems that nearly made Sand swoon thinking of what he could enchant with them.

By now all of them had enough experience with the energies of enchantment that they could feel the magical vibrations swirl around them like waves at the ocean shore, and just as capable of knocking them off their feet. A pile of things was started that seemed to radiate magic for Sand to identify later, though he often could read the enchantments by simply holding the object without having to cast the spell. Dee had felt giddy and chuckled with relief as she looked in awe at the treasure. "At least I won't have to worry about where we're gonna get the coin for the Keep and my 'Cloaks after this. That's a huge load off my mind. Think I'll have Veedle build those guard towers along the road he wanted."

After Sand had taken what he wanted, he had examined the corpse for anything he could use for crafting or spell components. Casavir sorted through the weapons in the hoard while at Dee's request Khelgar and Elanee examined the creature's hide to see if there was enough of it undamaged to have crafted into armor. Neeshka shoved several gems Sand couldn't use and as much gold as she could into her own magic bag_._ Eventually everyone took what they wanted from the hoard, even Elanee, who hesitated then shyly took a pendant with a sky-blue opal that she thought was pretty.

They returned to the cavern where Neeshka used her ring to make herself invisible again, and Dee reluctantly sent her back down the mountain alone before she lost the light after a bear hug and a stern admonition to be careful and an final hug. She was headed back to where the Greycloaks who accompanied them were camped with the horses to send two of them back to the Keep for all the wagons, miner's carts, and pack mules Kana could send and another squad of Greycloaks to help move it all to the Keep.

Dee watched the faint stirring of dust that was the only evidence of the tiefling's movement down the trail until Neeshka reached the limit of her vision. In addition to the danger Neeshka faced going back to the Greycloaks alone, it would leave them short handed for watches, and Dee cursed herself for not prying Grobnar away from his beloved construct and decoding the Relentless Poet's journal or Zhjaeve from her research with Aldanon (not to mention her new hobby, tending Elanee's garden). They could really have used another cleric today. She had brought Wolf along, still trying to make a ranger out of him, but she left him behind with the Greycloaks and the horses because she decided he was too young to accompany them to the giants' camp even though he wasn't much younger than Qara. He was learning quite a lot, but he wasn't quite a ranger yet. And the ranger...she cursed under her breath and reminded herself she used to be the ranger before he joined them.

At the time it seemed like a good idea for Bishop to stay behind at the Keep too. They _thought_ this was only going to be a diplomatic mission after all, and when she approached him about going while he was into his third ale at the tavern Bishop had snorted and muttered, "Yeah, I'll become a diplomat right after I marry a fat farm wench and settle down to have a house full of brats with her." Dee had rolled her eyes and agreed they didn't need him this time. She would have her hands full with Qara's lack of tact as it was. But since then she had regretted not having him along to scout. If he had been there, she would have sent him ahead to scout it out that canyon and he could have alerted them to the dragon's presence, which Neeshka missed. On the other hand, if they hadn't gone into the canyon and walked right into the dragon's lair, they wouldn't have its treasure now. "Would've, should've, could've..." she muttered with disgust as she went back inside the cavern.

Dee assigned watch shifts for the night with herself, Cillian, and Casavir taking first watch, then Ammon Jerro and Khelgar, and finally Sand, Elanee, and her beloved badger, giving Qara the night off. In the aftermath of the battle Qara had been sullen as usual but uncharacteristically silent, still in shock (which didn't deter her from doing some looting for herself, however), but it wasn't long before she saw Neeshka glance at her while whispering with Elanee and began to accuse them of mocking her, and Casavir was hard pressed to calm her down. The others were used to her fits by now and let her vent, but she only interpreted this as further proof. Dee thought Qara just needed rest and told her she didn't need to take a watch shift that night, which Qara interpreted as a further insult to her competence. Suddenly she had balled her hands into fists and began shouting angry accusations that Dee only invited her along to humiliate her and that Sand must have put her up to it.

Ammon Jerro cursed and muttered about the foolishness of bringing children with them and cast a protective spell. Dee strode across the chamber until they were face to face and growled, "Now you listen, little girl. You don't like me, and I'm not too fond of you either, but I sure as hells don't _hate_ you. Besides, even if I did, I would _never_ risk your life or the others' lives, not to mention the mission, just to humiliate you. What kind of idiot would do that? So stop acting like a spoiled brat and shut up before you bring the giants down on us!"

Sand, Elanee, and Casavir immediately rushed over to break it up when Dee looked like she was about to slap her, with Khelgar right on their heels. Sand wisely intervened to avert the disaster he felt was coming as he felt Qara summon what energy remained to her to cast a spell and rendered Qara unconscious with _Hiss of_ _Sleep_, one of the few memorized spells he hadn't used and the first one that sprung to mind.

Being closest to her, Dee blinked in surprise and reflexively caught her as her body went limp. Everyone relaxed visibly now that the crisis was averted for the moment, though Ammon Jerro still had a look of utter disgust as he watched Dee and Casavir, followed by Sand and Elanee, haul Qara into the rear cavern where they gently laid her in her bedroll. Casavir blushed and hastily returned to the front cavern as Dee and Elanee loosened her robe and tucked her in, with Dee forgetting she had been ready to beat the hells out of her only a few moments before.

Sand remained and looked down on the sleeping sorceress, puzzled that the spell had worked, but keeping that knowledge to himself. For that particular spell was designed to only affect enemies in order that the caster's companions wouldn't be caught in it accidentally. It was something he would have to think about before he mentioned it to anyone else, but he didn't like what it implied about Qara. He whispered, "The spell will give way to natural sleep. I cannot guarantee she won't be doubly angry when she awakens, but that should hold her for now." He pursed his lips slyly at a sudden thought about his available spells then thumbed through the scrolls in the back of his case. "Actually, _I can_. I can make her completely forget those ugly words ever escaped her lips. Let her think the dragon's attack caused her to faint. I _knew_ this spell would come in handy someday. But time is of the essence if the spell is to have the desired effect."

Dee peered at the scroll over his shoulder and whispered, "_Forget_? Now that's a scary thought!" Elanee looked horrified as well for a moment until she saw Sand's logic and simply whispered, "Yes." Dee swallowed hard and nodded at him to go ahead, so he cast the spell then claimed a corner in the front cavern in which to study his spells for the next day while Elanee moved her bedroll over and entered her reverie beside Qara as Dee went to join Casavir and Cillian on watch.

Dee looked at him and considered the adventurers' mantra, "What the paladin doesn't know won't hurt him, or us," but she decided she couldn't lie to him now then lie comfortably in his arms tonight, so she told him about the spell while they were still on watch. She was finding that she didn't want to keep anything from him anymore even if it led to disagreements, but she was also learning to pick the time when he couldn't argue and he would be forced to think before they continued the discussion.

They were relieved in time by Khelgar and Ammon Jerro. Now they could take the time to examine their armor for damage and each other for injuries and get what rest they could. Dee sighed tiredly as they settled into their little corner where Cillian was already drifting off to sleep and grimaced as she unfastened the straps of her brigandine to set it aside next to her sword belt. She pulled off her gambeson then her shirt, the sleeve stiff with dried blood though the wound had been to her head, and leaned back against Casavir. He was already lying on their bedrolls, having just removed his armor and weapons. He was watching her with that set to his jaw that informed her he wasn't going to put off the discussion.

Dee sighed again as she thought about dealing with the sorceress when she awakened. She tried to justify their actions, speaking softly. "You probably don't agree, and I don't want to argue with you, but I sure hope Sand's spell works. It seems wrong, stealing someone's memory like that but that's a memory I'm guessin' she wouldn't argue about giving up."

Casavir was silent for an unbearable moment then sighed and kissed her cheek. "Sand seemed confident the spell would work, correct? Don't fret, my lady. I didn't approve of the spell when you first told me of it, and I still don't like it, but once I thought about it, I saw that his actions will spare Qara further humiliation. So...a white lie to save her pain is justified this time. I cannot lie to her, but...I don't have to tell her the truth either unless she asks."

Dee looked a bit relieved and leaned close to whisper, "I don't know Cas, mayhap 'tis time to send her away when we get back to the Keep. She's grown powerful, but I'm no longer sure she's not more of a liability than an asset. I was hoping she would outgrow her temper, but she's gotten so full of herself. I don't know where to send her though. She doesn't have any family except her father, and there's no love lost between them. I don't want to send her off to Waterdeep alone no matter how powerful she thinks she is. But I will if I must, with enough coin to live on for years unless she spends it all payin' for repairs after she loses her temper and starts throwin' fireballs like she did at _The Flagon_." She glanced over again to where the sorceress was snoring softly. "'Tis true I'm not too fond of her though. Is that coloring my judgment?"

Casavir kissed the top of her head and whispered, "It might very well be. Yet I agree. She's very willful, but perhaps she will be chastened by this experience. My suggestion is to let us see how she behaves when we return to the Keep before you decide to send her away. Be patient with her, my lady. Perhaps we should try harder to befriend the girl."

She smiled broadly and squeezed his hand. "Thank you for understanding, love. Perhaps _I_ should try harder with her you mean, and you're right."

He sat up and offered her a healing potion then picked up her brigandine to examine it. "I'm thankful we can afford costly enchantments that protect our armor as well as our bodies. This armor would have given out long ago otherwise, and it will eventually once the enchantments have absorbed enough damage. Perhaps we should get you a replacement."

She smiled and shook her head at the offered potion as she kicked off her boots and leathers and stripped down to her small clothes. She picked up his breast plate to examine the straps by Sand's light. "Elanee saw to my worst injuries, but I almost puked when she set my shoulder. Gods that hurt, worse than when I hit that rock. Seems almost good as new though." She raised her left arm and rotated it to show him. "We probably should save those potions for later anyway. Over half the potions we brought with us got smashed. I told Neesh to have the 'Cloaks bring us more, but it's gonna be days before they get here."

Dee laid his breast plate back down with his armor, satisfied that he wouldn't have a failure at a critical moment in the next fight, and picked up his greaves. "I want to have new armor made for you. I think you would look very handsome in dragon scale armor, if Edario is up to crafting it. And what about your injuries, hmm? Don't give me that 'tis but a flesh wound' line of yours . You have to take care of yourself too, that's an order as your captain. And next I'll have to nag you like I was already your wife."

He grinned at her sheepishly. "Yes, my Captain, and yes my dear, I shall obey, though I was also healed enough to finish healing my ribs and stop the bleeding at any rate." He frowned at the state of her shirt even as he pulled off his own, gasping in pain as he tugged it free from a wound, which caused it to open again. He pressed his shirt against the wound and held it in place for a few moments. "It's a good thing there's an abundance of fresh water here so we can wash. I believe I'll take the opportunity to shave in the morning too as long as we're here."

She responded with an exaggerated pout as she laid his greaves back down and picked up his pauldrons. "Shave? I like you with some fuzz on your face. It tickles when you kiss me, especially on my more sensitive skin." She chuckled as she saw him blush even in the dim light. She laid the pauldrons aside and took a drink from her water skin then handed it to him. As he drank she shook her head and whispered, "Gods, Cas. What are we doin' here? In my wildest dreams, I never would have guessed it would have been easier to negotiate with the Lizardmen than with the Ironfist dwarves. Lizardmen! What's the world comin' to? I'm sure the gods got a good laugh at that one."

He set the water skin down then rubbed the back of her neck and murmured, "I know, I wouldn't have believed it myself if I hadn't been there." His mind turned to the events of that day back at Highcliff. The lizardmen's shaman had seen that he was being manipulated by the King of Shadows once Dee had sat down with the creature and allowed him to probe her mind. They had all been on edge as they faced off against the lizardmen, and Casavir knew all it would have taken was the slightest movement on either side that the other interpreted as treachery to spark bloodshed. He was proud of her for remaining calm and submitting to the shaman when it would have been all too easy for her to give the order to slaughter the tribe or beat them into a tenuous submission, and they would have lost them as allies. Afterwards she patiently explained her story and what they knew about the King of Shadows to the fascinated shaman, even showing him her shards and the scar on her chest at his request.

Casavir pushed her hair aside, which was just long enough now to pull back in a short pony tail. He kissed the back of her neck and smiled at the way that always made her shiver before he started massaging her shoulders, noting that the left shoulder was still tender despite Elanee's healing spell. "I love that your skin is so sensitive to my kisses." He chuckled lightly as he thought about their return to Highcliff. "I think if I live to be a hundred, I'll never forget the look on Elder Mayne's face when you escorted the shaman and his guards into the village. That's a story to tell our grandchildren some day." They had shared a feast that day with the strange allies then made the arrangements for the villagers and the lizardmen to travel to the Keep together, with the lizardmen warriors providing protection during the night and the villagers during the day.

She smiled wistfully and murmured, "Grandchildren? You're planning ahead. I don't even think I'm ready children for a while yet." But even as she said that for the first time she realized she _did_ want children with him, and she wanted one sooner rather than later if they didn't have the King of Shadows to face.

He chuckled. "Someday, when we're old and gray then. You're becoming quite the diplomat, my lady. Perhaps Lord Nasher will appoint you as a roving ambassador some day, and it will give us an opportunity to travel."

She chuckled and leaned forward to give him better access to her shoulders and thought for a moment before she answered. "Lady Deidre Farlong, roving ambassador...An excuse is more like it. Yeah, someday mayhap. It's probably not as exciting and glamorous as it sounds though. Too much of being stuck all day in negotiations, and likely all evening too. I'm sure I'd need another bag of holdingjust to carry my wardrobe for all the balls and formal dinners. And I'll never remember what to do with all those forks and spoons. Besides, we both know I have to work on my temper before I'll make a proper diplomat. Sure, I negotiated with lizardmen, but I wasn't able to negotiate with Keros at all, and I still haven't figured out where I went wrong with the dragon."

He worked his way down her back, noting she still had some large ugly dark bruises on her hip and thigh he would insist she have healed in the morning. For now he kissed the bruises softly and tactfully avoided the topic of her temper, though in his opinion, she had come far since he first met her when she was prone to settling all disagreements with her fists or her swords. "You did what you could. I don't believe the dragon would have honored any agreement we made with it, just as I don't believe Clangeddin himself could have negotiated with Keros. It was all I could do to hold my own temper at how obstinate and short sighted he was being."

They found when they arrived at the Ironfist stronghold that Khelgar hadn't exaggerated the animosity that the Ironfists' ruler, Keros, bore him, though no one believed it was only for leaving his clan. Dee had rarely seen such a display of raw hatred and scorn, and she believed that Keros had always hated Khelgar whether there was a comely dwarven shield maiden at the root of it or not. So instead of returning to Crossroads Keep with them as allies and preparing for war, they were on a difficult quest to take on a tribe of fire giants on Mount Galardrym to retrieve the belt of Ironfist and earn the Ironfists' alliance.

The very idea had seemed impossible then when they set out from the Ironfist stronghold, and as they approached the mountain she had willed herself not to think about it anymore after she offered up desperate prayers to Meilikki, Tyr, Clangeddin Silverbeard, and any god she thought would listen. But now after taking on a red dragon, it didn't seem as daunting. She frowned and chided herself not to get too cocky—she was convinced that was how she lost Shandra—and reminded herself they were still no closer to finding a way to defeat the shadow reavers or reforge the sword.

Dee glanced around to make sure they could talk freely then turned to face Casavir and whispered, "I thank the gods that Sand decided to come along at the last minute. I shudder to think what we would have done today without him, though I gotta admit Jerro pulled his own weight. I don't begin to understand how his magic works, but it looks like he can call his spells at will like Qara does. But he's more thoughtful about his spells. They're...efficient. And Elanee's getting scary powerful too. I sure wouldn't want to take on a whole grove of druids with her knowledge. But Sand...I've got to find out what that spell was he used."

She replayed the battle in her mind, which she would do every night until a worse memory took its place. Sand had anticipated that the dragon would attack and removed the dragon's magical defenses with a couple of well-timed spells then shouted at Qara to hit it with everything she had after it attacked and she retaliated with a _Fireball._ To be more precise, he had shouted, "Use all your lightning and ice spells now, stupid girl! Can't you see fire spells are useless against it!" Elanee and Ammon Jerro were already casting their own spells. Dee, Casavir, and Khelgar rushed in to attack once the spellcasters had finished and they didn't have to worry about getting fried, baked, or frozen by their own companions, but the beast still attacked with tail sweeps, wing buffets, claws, and its fiery breath.

They almost all had spells or enchanted items that protected against fire, but she had been sent tumbling by a swipe of its claw, and Casavir was sent flying by its tail after their first successful attack. Khelgar deftly avoided the tail but was nearly caught by its breath. If he wasn't bald already he would be now, but he lost some of his beard. Qara wasn't so lucky and screamed in fury to be on the receiving end of a fire attack for once as she was caught in the full force of the dragon's fiery breath. She would have been reduced to a cinder if not for the enchantments on her robe. Neeshka, who had been circling around praying to Tymora the dragon couldn't see through her invisibility, escaped serious injury due to her lucky coin (or so she would insist later) and sprung from its leg to its back and proved that you _could_ backstab a dragon if you could get close enough to its back. By then Khelgar, Dee and Casavir had recovered enough to finish it off, though Dee had lost another pair of spectacles and her left arm hung uselessly. As she thought about the battle now she said reverently, "Cas, we might all be so much dragon shite right about now if not for Sand's spell stripping its magic."

Casavir sat back and rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Indeed. That spell is called '_Mordenkainen's Disjunction,' _ if I'm not mistaken. It has quite an interesting history. The archmage Mordenkainen who created it didn't live here on Toril. He was from another world in the multiverse called 'Oerth.' Some scholars believe that a mage found a portal from Toril to that world ages ago and spent some time there learning from its masters—you may have heard of them, Tenser, Bigby and Rary too—then brought the knowledge back to Toril. Some say it was Elminster. But others say it was the goddess of magic before Mystra who brought the spells to Toril."

She shook her head at him and chuckled. "You're always surprising me. How did you know that?"

He flushed in embarrassment, looked down and shrugged then replied, "It was something I read when I was a boy for a class. I thought it was interesting, this notion of other worlds parallel to our own, and that portals exist that would allow one to travel between them. So I read further."

She kissed his hot cheek. "Something you read and you remembered it all these years? You amaze me, Cas, you really do." She lay her head on his shoulder. "We don't have time for any of this, but we need the Ironfists' help if we can get it. Pity 'tis not the dwarven way to go against their ruler or I know they'd be with us. As we left I could see it in their eyes to a man. Or a woman. It's kinda hard to tell with some of the women." She glanced around again to make sure Khelgar wasn't within earshot.

She sat up again thinking aloud so Casavir could provide a sounding board. "Pity we couldn't have made an alliance with the dragon too. And what if we could reason with the fire giants as easily as the lizard people? Imagine them as allies, smashin' skeletons to dust! After all, the King of Shadows is as much a threat to them as to us. I just need to convince them of that."

He caressed her cheek softly but looked skeptical. "True, but fire giants cannot be trusted not to turn on us when the battle is finished. Unlike the lizardmen, they're evil creatures by nature, as was that dragon. In fact, they couldn't even be trusted not to turn on us on a whim _before _the battle or the second we let our guard down. No, your best hope with the giants is to offer them something in exchange for the Belt of Ironfist. You may have to part with some of the dragon's hoard, but it will be worth it. Now...I believe it is my turn. Would you work on my shoulder?" He stretched out on his stomach so she could work out the stiffness, the result of an old injury from the war that still bothered him years later.

She straddled him and kneaded his shoulder with her thumbs then dug her elbow into it. "Mayhap we should see if this could be magically healed. A restoration spell? I'll ask El and Brother Ivarr what's involved, and don't argue that you don't need it. Our challenges seem to be getting' harder, and I need you in top shape in case we come up against another dragon." She snorted. "What are the chances that would happen."

He grunted from pain as well as relief as she worked. "I'm not getting any younger either. Perhaps I will consider it, if the spell isn't too costly." He turned his head and smirked at her. "But then I wouldn't need to have you massage it."

She chuckled as she resumed kneading with her thumbs. "Oh, like that would stop me. I love the feel of your taut muscles moving under your skin. Now how's your knee? Take off your breeches and let me rub it too. I saw you limping even after you were healed, like you do when you're really tired. Was that an injury from the war too?"

He turned his head give her that sheepish look that she found so endearing. "No, it wasn't the war. That was from an old Hurley injury from when I was in school. I stepped in a gopher hole running to score a goal. But I made it, and my team won." He grinned triumphantly then blushed again seeing she wasn't impressed as she muttered, "Men." "It seems to flare up from overuse from time to time, and it's bearable if I wrap it. We used to make a poultice for pain out of the root of a yellow flower that grew around Old Owl Well that helped immensely. Elanee might know what it is."

She took out a strip of clean linen from a healer's kit and poured some wine onto it then cleaned the wound he had opened up again when he took off his shirt. "Might be arnica. I'll ask her if any grows around the Keep." He shuddered and bit his lip, and she felt a twinge in her heart at causing him that necessary pain. "Mayhap after another day of healing and rest...It's too bad we had to leave the horses with the Greycloaks down the mountain. Since the dragon's canyon was a dead end, we'll have to take the trail all the way around the mountain now to reach their main camp, and they have to know we're coming after we...after I started that avalanche." It was her turn now for an embarrassed blush now.

He watched her wrap another strip of linen around his torso to hold the bandage in place. "I'll be fine after a day of rest. Elanee should be able to heal most of our injuries, and we can rest again before we enter their camp if need be. Besides, that avalanche of yours sent some pretty big boulders in their direction. Perhaps we got lucky and we'll find that they finished the giants for us." She put the healer's kit aside and snorted again in a way he didn't find attractive, but he could live with it, as he realized she must also find some of his habits annoying. "Come my lady, we must get some sleep." He lay back on their bedrolls and extended his hand to her.

She lay beside him trying to get comfortable on the hard ground by finding a way to lay that didn't press on a bruise, and he was doing the same. They had placed her bedroll on top of his for extra padding but found it wasn't enough. She pulled their cloaks on top of them to serve as blankets and replied, "Right. We couldn't get that lucky, could we?"


	32. Bishop Agonistes

Chapter 32 Bishop Agonistes*

Usual disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters except a bear-lovin' ranger and an occasional NPC.

*Yes, I know some will think the title of this chapter is pretentious, but it seems to fit where Bishop finds himself in this chapter (unless you've never had the pleasure of reading Milton and you don't recognize the reference to his closet drama about the last days of Sampson anyway. And if you don't know who Sampson or Milton are, good gods, take a few lit classes;-).

While Dee and her companions were facing unexpected battles with dragons and giants, Bishop was back at Crossroads Keep fulfilling Black Garius's instructions, but only until he could find a way to free himself of the Geas placed upon him. He understood now why animals trapped in a snare will chew their paw off to escape. Bishop had been ordered to find ways to turn members of their company against the Shard-bearer, and to the King of Shadow's side if possible, and provide him with information about the preparations at the Keep. He was supposed to be keeping an eye on her too, but he didn't need to be with them to do that. He had his own spy, Qara, to tell him what happened while they were away, and he had satisfied himself that she was too stupid to realize he was only using her whenever he lent her a sympathetic ear to vent her many grievances or agreed with her once again that she was as great and powerful as she thought she was.

So he chatted up people around the Keep while he could before they returned and before his next arranged meeting with Black Garius. He had always found people were more willing to talk about someone if he or she wasn't around. People just loved to gossip (though few were honest about it), especially if there was no chance they would be overheard by the subject of their gossip. But it was never them that gossiped, oh no. They were just stating the facts. He found his disgust with humanity growing daily, but he took advantage of the time he had. And since most of the circus the Knight Captain surrounded herself with was gone on the mission other than himself, the half-man, and the Gith, he had his run of the Keep. But he had to make sure he wasn't caught being where he shouldn't be, such as in her privy chambers going through her things, or wasn't overheard asking too many questions by the wrong person.

So once they were gone, he had struck up casual conversations with the Greycloaks about her and about the mission either at the inn or festhall over drinks, or out on the archery range, where he continued to help train them. He found the most of the Greycloaks were loyal to a fault, and why not? He knew she made sure they had the best weapons and armor she could afford, and the best training to go along with it. No fodder for her; she set the highest standards for her new recruits. So while her troop numbers were small, they were a force to reckon with. He also found that no one loved her as much as Jacoby and Edario, who were so busy they each had taken on three apprentices to meet the demand for arms and armor. If they survived this war, they should both walk away rich men.

If anything, it occurred to him as he shook his head in disgust at the Greycloaks' unwavering faith in their precious Knight Captain that Lord Nasher was the one who should be concerned about the small but elite and very loyal army she was building here. The Knight Captain was gaining quite a cult following, in his opinion. It went beyond mere loyalty, however. One of the Greycloaks told him glumly while they were drinking the last evening that Kana had confiscated all the swords made by the Knight Captain after learning that some of the Greycloaks were gambling for them or selling them for much more than they were worth, especially her silver blades. Some of the Greycloaks had convinced themselves she was blessed, and by extension, so were the swords she had made. And since she hadn't had much time to forge any more weapons lately, being rare made them even more sought-after.

He thought for awhile about how he could use this knowledge before he decided he should find a way to get it to Sir Nevalle, who would doubtless take his poisoned intelligence directly to Lord Nasher. It was known among her inner circle (he heard it from Neeshka) that she declined Nasher's offer of a position among his Nine, and it wouldn't take much to make him think she wanted more than just this Keep and her future ambitions didn't also include taking his throne. She sure couldn't sleep her way there, though Bishop supposed he might be attracted by her boyish figure if he took her from behind. Generals and warlords had lost their heads for showing less ambition, or worse, had been stationed out on some gods-forsaken frontier outpost like Old Owl Well to rot or to let the orcs finish them off, eliminating them while leaving their Lord's hands clean.

It was dangerous to approach the knight directly though. On the few occasions where he had spoken with Nevalle, he got a strong impression that he didn't like or trust him. He didn't care at all if he liked him, but the lack of trust was dangerous. He thought perhaps he could do it through Torio Claven. He knew from following her that Nevalle dined with her regularly and bedded her on occasion, though he could see the wariness in the Luskan wench's eyes when he had tried to chat her up once before. She didn't know about him spying for them before the trial. That had been Lorne's closely-guarded secret. But it was almost as if she could smell Black Garius's taint on him. No, not her, she was too dangerous to approach. But maybe someone else Nevalle bedded. The knight was as big a slut as he was, and besides the festhall boy, he had spotted one of Aldanon's apprentices visiting Nevalle's tower a few nights at too late in the evening to be making a social call. He decided he would look for a chance to mention his 'concerns' within the man's hearing when he dropped in on Aldanon later.

He had had little success gaining any useful information from the servants in the Keep. He might happily bed the odd serving wench (though he made it very clear to them it was just a tumble and he rarely had one more than once without paying for her services so she knew her place), but he found that they too were fiercely loyal to their Lady. He also had to be careful lest one of them repeat something about their conversations that got to the head housekeeper or head cook, who would doubtless go straight to Kana. While they would gossip about her and the paladin when he prompted them with his own juicy gossip, they would only go so far.

However, he chalked this up to a fear of doing anything to threaten their employment rather than any real loyalty to her. He learned that she paid them as much as they would have made in Blacklake and gave them a day off a tenday instead of one a month, and a credit with the merchants for a set of clothes and shoes at their birthdays and at Midwinter. She insisted that everyone have sturdy shoes, even the brats. But Black Garius wouldn't be pleased to hear that the only thing he had to report about the wench was that she had a fixation with shoes.

He had decided as soon as they left to chat up that old friend of hers who had already received a promotion to sergeant. He would have thought this was proof she had screwed him back in that fetid hellhole of a swamp if he didn't know better. But Sergeant Starling was polite yet very tight-lipped about their former life in West Harbor. He spent much of his off time in the company of the other sergeants anyway, especially Katriona, who obviously wanted to do more than spar with him. Bishop couldn't resist implying one night just how well _he_ had gotten to know the Knight Captain in Neverwinter, and he also enjoyed casually retelling the tale of how she slaughtered his big brother. He loved the looks of shock, horror, and shame on the big oaf's face. But he had to tread carefully here because he didn't know how intimate he was with Katriona. If he upset the big oaf enough that he complained to her, that pinched-faced shrew was likely to go not to Dee, but to the paladin.

Not that he didn't welcome a confrontation with his holiness. He often thought about catching him out in the woods and putting a few poisoned arrows in his back, the kind that would kill him slowly and painfully. He even had a dream a few nights ago in which he was kneeling over his body holding a bloody knife in one hand while he wound his fingers through his hair and pulled him close with his other hand, laughing and whispering in his ear as the light faded from his eyes, "You see your holiness, the way to a man's heart is not through the stomach but between the fourth and fifth ribs." He woke up laughing so hard he was crying. Yeah, he would love seeing the look on her face after he killed that self-righteous fool, especially if he could do it in front of her, but he knew better than to stick around after that. Too bad there was no way that he could make him fall or that the fool could be turned away from her.

Or was there? There was something he recalled that one of the scullery wenches, the dark-eyed skinny one, said about hearing slightly raised voices when she went to the temple early before she started work. Then she saw the paladin leaving Brother Ivarr's office looking flushed. Could it be that he was finally feeling the weight of that yoke that wenches used to turn men into docile beasts of burden settling over his shoulders? Or maybe the priest didn't care for how much time he spent rutting instead of praying. Maybe if he could get him alone when they got back he could share his 'concern' that his relationship with the swamp wench was coming before his relationship with Tyr. He could bring up that whore and tell him he looked like he was about to throw his paladinhood away for a woman. It would only take a suggestion, but that might be just enough poison to kill his interest in her, and safer than actually stabbing him. He chuckled dryly. Yes, that had definite possibilities and gave him something else to report to Black Garius.

Of those inside the Keep, Bishop had discovered that it wasn't very hard at all to get that old fart Aldanon talking about just about anything, and he turned out to be an excellent source of information on their progress. Bishop believed that if Aldanon ever left the library and his work rooms, he would probably be the biggest threat to security in the Keep since the man was indiscreet, sharing what they were doing with anyone who asked. All Bishop had to do was drop by regularly on the pretense of checking their progress, being especially careful to do so when the old fart's apprentices were busy with the actual research and the Gith was away too. He would wait until she was working in the kitchen garden or out in the fields with the farmers, where she spent hours every day now that summer was nearly here, before he approached Aldanon since he didn't trust the green-skinned wench at all.

After a few visits he figured the old fart was used to his regular requests for progress reports, so he avoided Kana and made his way to the library. The apprentice he was looking for wasn't around, but he could drop his gossip for Nevalle next time, and he had more important business here anyway. He wanted to carefully probe Aldanon for information about how a Geas worked and how it could be broken. He had been testing how far he could resist it before he went mad with pain, and he thanked his Luskan training that he could take quite a lot. But sometimes he was sick for hours from the strain, and he feared it was sapping his strength. So it was better to play along for now. He already knew it was simple enough to get the old fool to talk. He just had to think of a way to bring it up in conversation without provoking suspicion. He masked his inquiry with concern for their dear Knight Captain, asking, "I've been thinking about that shard that's stuck in the Knight Captain's chest. Is it possible she might be under a Geas because of it?"

The old fart peered up at him for so long Bishop was sure he was probing his mind then finally chuckled heartily and patted his shoulder as he replied, "That's why magic is best left to the mages, my boy. No, no, no, a Geas doesn't work like that at all. What you're describing would be more a form of possession rather than a Geas." Bishop listened impatiently as he gave a lengthy explanation until one of his apprentices called him away. Aldanon sighed with dismay as he was just getting warmed up. He eyed the bookcase in front of him and pulled a dusty book off one of the shelves and handed it to Bishop. "You can read, I presume? Good, then everything you need to know about a Geas is contained in Chapters Seven through Nine. Now run along, and don't you worry about the Knight Captain, though I do understand why your concern. Now that you mention it, if the blade had been sentient, even broken it might retain enough intelligence that it could try to exert influence over her. I shall have to ask Zhjaeve whether the Sword of Gith was a sentient blade."

Bishop hid his delight that he had unexpectedly planted more doubt about her. He quickly shoved the book into his pack before anyone saw him do it and took it back to read in the privacy of his room at the inn in the time that remained until his meeting, fighting the urge to run. He always claimed to anyone who asked that he stayed at the inn rather than in the Keep proper with the rest of her lackeys because of its proximity to cheap ale and moderately priced whores. But the truth was he kept his own room to send the message to her that he was his own man. He grunted at Karnwyr as the wolf bounded up beside him outside the inn and licked his hand and took the stairs two at a time once he got inside. He didn't even bother getting a tankard to take to his room in his urgency to read the book.

He wanted to howl with rage after he tried to read the first chapter. Rather than being a spell book, it was a book on magical theory. It was tedious going because he didn't understand many of the words used, and what was worse, the first chapter had little information on a Geas, and the second only mentioned in passing that there were two forms of the spell. He was tempted to rip up the book and toss it into the fireplace but slammed it on the floor instead. He paced the room angrily until Karnwyr whimpered nervously and walked up beside him and licked his hand. Bishop ruffed his neck fur absently as he sat back down at his table and picked up the book to read through the last chapter, willing himself to calm down and take his time. He smiled at Karnwyr as the wolf looked up at him, tongue lolling contentedly. The mutt always grounded him. He was the only one he could always rely on. He stood and stretched. "Come on boy, let's get us a couple of bowls of Sal's stew before I get back to this boring shit. But if there's nothing useful in that last chapter, I'm gonna go back to the library and shove this book up that old fart's ass until he sneezes paper!"

After fortifying himself with a big bowl of Sal's venison stew and a tankard of ale, he went back to reading as Karnwyr curled up on the rug to sleep off his own supper. He had just started when there was a commotion out in the courtyard, and he stood and looked out the window. He figured it might have something to do with the band of lizardmen and farmers who arrived from Highcliff and were camped in tents around the Keep until Kana found them permanent housing. Some of the people here were nervous around the lizardmen and tempers were short, but they were as much refugees with nowhere else to go as the farmers. But they weren't the cause of the commotion.

He recognized two of the Greycloaks who had gone with the circus jumping off their horses and sprinting into the Keep. But only the two, and he didn't see her or any of the others coming. That was interesting, and perhaps something to report tonight. He watched Sal walk over and talk to one of the Greycloaks, his curiosity getting the better of him, which only proved Bishop's point about gossip. He heard something about the Knight Captain sending them for help. He could find out what was happening from him later, and he had enough for tonight's report anyway. For now he returned to the book.

The ninth chapter discussed the reasons certain spells failed, which was usually from some error on the caster's part. He snorted. No surprise there, judging from the mages he had known. He skimmed through the pages until he found the mention of the Geas spell. The old fart had said that the caster needed to be close to the subject but didn't have to be close enough to touch the victim. From what Bishop could make out, the writer of this book thought a Geas was one of the more dangerous spells because of that and because there were no gestures or components required to cast it. No hocus-pocus at all. All the caster had to do was say the words of the command, and the command had to be something the subject was willing to do, and it couldn't lead to the caster's death.

He sighed and closed his eyes while rubbing his temples and remembered how he met Black Garius once not far from here before the trial, having been taken to him by Lorne while he was supposedly away with one of his hunting parties. He had recognized Lorne from years before on the streets of Luskan, though he hadn't known him there other than as a thug for hire with a reputation for a having bad temper who was to be avoided, unless you could get the drop on him. He wanted to know his habits so he could hunt him down and kill him if Dee lost the trial. But that was before he thought better of that plan. It was easy enough to shadow him through the streets of Neverwinter then cross his path one morning, making eye contact and a gesture that marked him as a member of another assassin squad. Lorne looked startled but nodded back, and they slipped into a seedy tavern and talked in the back room then arranged to meet again outside of the city.

He was only trying to cover his bets in case the Luskans won and decided to make an example of all of her companions by demanding they be turned over to stand trial for the slaughter of Ember too. The wench said as much to him herself a few days before the trial, and he knew that Nasher wouldn't make them _all_ squires, not even his holiness. Nasher would likely have turned them over to Luskan justice at once. He hated feeling he wasn't on the winning side either because in this kind of battle, the losers usually died. So he made a pact with them in return for a guarantee of his life and freedom. He snorted at the thought of how little freedom he had now. They hadn't talked for long, but the mage demanded he tell him everything he knew about her. From what this book said, that was the only time Black Garius could have cast the spell on him.

He already knew how fighting the spell weakened him and made him sick, and as Black Garius had threatened, the book promised it _would_ kill him eventually if he continued to resist. It wasn't so much that it bothered him betraying the wench. It did cause him a few regrets, but he could drink those away. Anyway, he told himself over and over she deserved it for the way she had cast him aside like so much trash when his holiness started making her small clothes wet. Not that he wanted her to die for it, but better her than him. Besides, she's the one who wanted to be a martyr. What did bother him was being under anyone's thumb, especially a pansy mage. And what if the Geas wasn't ended if she died? Or what if the battle ended in a stalemate? What if the King of Shadows couldn't cross over to this plane right away and this campaign went on for years? His greatest fear was that he would never be free.

He felt devastated as he continued to read, and he wished he had gotten a bottle of whiskey instead of ale. But he had to keep his wits about him for the meeting later tonight. He had been thinking he might be able to pay a mage to dispel the spell, but this book said it could only be removed by the Wish spell, and he knew how rare those were. He poured through the book for information on that spell anyway and wanted to scream with rage again. He slammed the book closed in frustration and buried his face in his hands fighting tears. Even if he could even find a mage powerful enough to cast that spell, who would be stupid enough to grant him a Wish when it would cost five years of the caster's life? Surely no human mage. An elf possibly, but at what price? What would a mage that powerful want in return? More servitude, at the very least as many years as he would give up for the spell. Probably much more.

Anyway, there was only one elvish mage he knew—Sand, who might even have the skill to cast the spell. Bishop sat back in the chair thinking about Sand, but the more he thought about it, the more hopeless it all became. For one thing, there was no way he could think of to get Sand to agree to cast it without telling him the whole story. He couldn't even begin to come up with a plausible lie that would explain how Black Garius was able to cast a Geas on him. And if Sand didn't kill him at once, Bishop knew he would be a dead man as soon as the others found out what he had done. That meant he would have to kill him first as soon as the spell was cast if he agreed to cast it at all, and Sand wasn't stupid like Qara; he would likely anticipate that and cast his own Geas, or worse.

What bothered him most was that hadn't he noticed the effects until now. He thought about the past year and decided it was most likely because he had been fulfilling the terms of the spell. For months they had thought Black Garius was dead and buried in a mass grave with the other Luskan trash outside the walls of the Keep. He should have guessed something was wrong that morning in West Harbor when he tried to leave and Black Garius appeared to him outside the village. He had been so overcome with fear and disgust by the carnage in the village, bringing back memories of Red Fallow's Watch and Ember, that he figured that was what made him feel sick. So he was blissfully unaware of his danger until that morning he decided to head for the hills for good.

He drained the last of his ale and wondered if he had time enough to reread the chapter in the time he had left. He leaned back and wracked his brain to remember what that bastard had said to him that day, but it was all hazy now. At the time he didn't understand why Black Garius had insisted on meeting with him other than not trusting him, and he didn't blame him there. But it was very clear now. He read again that he couldn't be commanded to kill himself or to perform an act that would lead to certain death. For now he was trapped because he was the one who sought out the pact with the Luskans. But if Black Garius ordered him to do something that might result in his own death, that should break the spell.

There was something in that to think about, and he felt the first stirrings of hope he had felt in a long time. If they got wind of what he was doing, Nevalle and the paladin would want to see him hanged for a traitor. That knowledge should break it, but it hadn't. She was too tender-hearted to do have him hung, as she had proven by sparing that Luskan whore Torio and not even locking her up at night or making her wear shackles. Most likely she would let him rot in Nasher's gaol unless Nasher overruled her and ordered his death. He sighed as he realized the problem was that being caught 'might' get him killed. Unless he was ordered to do something that he knew would get him killed for certain, he was still trapped. Besides, she was just as likely to throw him out without telling the others why as to turn him over to Neverwintan justice, and that created another problem, because then he would surely die from not fulfilling the Geas. It was like he was spinning, trapped in a whirlpool and about to be sucked under.

He glanced at the position of the sun to check the time and thought about the last time he met him. It was on the last black moon in a secret room in the dungeons of the Keep Garius told him about, a dungeon within a dungeon. No one else in the Keep knew about it except the devil girl, who had surprised him while he was looking for the room when they got back from West Harbor. But fortunately for him, or more fortunately for her, he wasn't meeting Garius that night and was only scouting out the location. He answered her startled squeal, "Bishop! What are you doing here!" by drawling casually, "Oh I don't know, I expect the same as you, wench. Looking for pickings, but there's not much of anything down here but old bones and torture devices." He wondered at the time if she had followed him there. But she seemed genuinely startled to see him, and his explanation seemed to be good enough for her. She left after she made sure there was nothing of value to be found and he had thoroughly sickened her with descriptions of how some of the instruments of torture were used, not even questioning how he knew that.

He was distracted by more noise outside. He stood and stretched and strode over to the window to look out. A squad of Greycloaks was quickly assembling with field packs around a couple of wagons. There were burlap sacks being loaded into the front wagon, and one of the priests of Tyr came running with a small chest that was marked with a healer's insignia. Healing potions and bags. That meant only one thing to him. Someone was injured or dead, possibly all of them. He wanted to find out, but this should be enough knowledge to keep Black Garius happy for now. Always wise to leave something in reserve in case he had nothing to report next time. One word floated up to him from below as he watched—dragon! The thought made his blood run cold, and he was glad he stayed behind. They fought a dragon and were too injured to get back even with the horses. Black Garius should be very pleased to hear that.

The sun began to sink behind the mountain in the distance. It was almost time. He cursed and went to the door reluctantly. Karnwyr stretched and looked at him expectantly. "No mutt, you're not coming with me. You can go run around outside until I get back." He couldn't take a chance that the druid might talk to Karnwyr and learn of his meetings. Slim as that chance seemed, it was better to play it safe. He quickly left the inn by the back door and went out the eastern gate avoiding getting close enough to talk to anyone. He was prepared with a story ready that he was doing some night hunting if anyone challenged him, but the guards recognized him as part of the Knight Captain's company and were all used to his excursions by now. He got out past the fields making sure none of the farm folk saw him then set Karnwyr out into the forest to wait until he whistled for him to come back and found the exit of that hidden tunnel that they used when they took the Keep from Garius.

She had never bothered to have guards set around it because it was very well hidden just inside the tree line, and she said she didn't want to advertise its existence so that it would remain an emergency escape tunnel. He took a torch and made his way down the tunnel then into the main basement level. There was door leading to a stairway leading down into the lowest levels not too far into the basement, so he didn't have to worry about avoiding the half-man, the spider, or one of the brats who ran with Wolf who always seemed to be underfoot. Sal said the Lizardmen were going to be moved into the lower levels of the Keep, but they hadn't settled in yet, and he couldn't see Kana giving them the torture rooms to live in. He crept down the stairs then past the room and doubled back to make sure he wasn't followed before he pressed on a certain stone in the wall that triggered the latch and slipped inside after taking a last look around to make sure he was alone.

Black Garius appeared as arranged in a mirror brought here for that purpose. The devil-girl had looked behind it and even examined it for anything hidden in the frame, but she had never questioned its presence in a torture chamber. The shadow reaver stared at him silently, his pale face a mask of calm as Bishop gave his report on the Shard Bearer, including his own ideas for undermining her standing with Nasher. He summed it up with, "But it may not be a problem. Just before I came over here two Greycloaks rode up in a hurry. She sent them back to bring them a couple of wagons, and I saw the Greycloaks loading burlap sacks into one of them. Body bags I'd guess. Then a priest got in with a chest of healing potions." Bishop didn't see this, only the priest bring out the chest, but he assumed that was what happened. Why send potions without sending a healer too?

Garius broke his silence, scowling at Bishop. "You don't know her fate for certain? Why did you not find that out before you came?"

Bishop growled, "Yeah, and then I get tortured because I'm late meeting you. I'm no fool. She's alive, I told you that. The wench really does seem to be charmed, just like her cult here thinks she is. The wench sent them to get help. One of them said they got attacked by a dragon. She's still alive if she sent them for help, but I'm guessing a few of the others aren't. Probably the paladin she's bedding. He's the type who would throw away his life for a wench, always jumping in to shield her in a fight. I've even heard them argue about it. But I have my own ideas about how to remove him if he's still alive." He related his thoughts about playing on the paladin's insecurities.

Black Garius nodded. "That should serve to drive a wedge between them and remove the blessing of Tyr from her. Proceed, but be careful."

Bishop cursed under his breath. "If I wasn't being careful, I'd be far from the Sword Coast by now. Just as long as you keep your part of our bargain. I get out of here with my life and..." he paused and studied the image before him. "I get out with the reward you promised me."

Black Garius folded his arms and frowned. "You said then you didn't care for gold, but I assume you've rethought that so you have something to pay for your escape. We also have many artifacts of power brought from Luskan that might interest you as long as you fulfill your part of the bargain."

Bishop grunted in reply then added as an afterthought, "Speaking of Luskan, your old friend Sydney Natale's dogsbody has been skulking around the Keep trying for an audience with the Knight Captain since before she got knighted. Don't know if that's something you should be concerned about, but it seems strange to me. So far she hasn't had time for him, but he's a persistent little bugger, and a dog like that wouldn't be so persistent unless he expected a big reward or feared returning to his mistress without talking to her."

If Garius was interested by this news, he didn't betray it in his expression, which was still as bland as rice pudding. "Sydney Natale, indeed. That might bear watching. Report back to me when you learn what Luskan wants with the Shard-bearer. I cannot believe a devious creature like Sydney Natale wants only to form a diplomatic alliance or congratulate her on Luskan's humiliation. It's more likely they're looking for some way to bring her down for embarrassing them. They may still want her death."

"I have to ask, why not just kill her then? You are going through a lot of trouble when it would be so easy to get rid of her," Bishop said with a shrug. He regretted the words as soon as they spilled out of his mouth, but the idea seemed so much more practical than all this sneaking around and plotting. Some people lived to plot and scheme though, in his experience, and he guessed he was looking at one of them.

Black Garius smirked and his expression reminded Bishop of a cat toying with a rat. "That is none of your concern, ranger. We have our reasons. The chief reason is that the King of Shadows thinks the Shard-bearer might be able to be turned to our side as well if her companions and Neverwinter turn against her or abandon her, much as Aribeth de Tylmarande had been turned to fight for Luskan. It has been observed that the Shard Bearer is a natural warrior."

Bishop nodded suppressing a shudder at seeing where this was going. "And if she could be turned, corrupted..."

Black Garius interrupted, "If so, she could become the King of Shadows' general and lead his undead army in his conquest of the Ilefarn lands." He changed the subject. "Enough about the Shard-bearer. Have you made progress with any of her companions besides the sorceress, Bishop? It sounds from what you've told me as if we could have her simply by acknowledging her power. She appears to be another useful little tool, but one that would have to be tightly controlled. But if she can't be controlled, she would join the fodder after her death. Not as a Shadow Reaver, but as one of the lesser undead."

Bishop yawned and looked towards the door as he though how best to respond. "The others? The druid would probably just run off if she turns on the Knight Captain. I don't think it's possible to turn her to _your_ side. Your King is not what she thinks of as natural." He turned back to the mirror and caught the shadow of a smirk as he said that as if Black Garius knew better. It unnerved him, but he continued, wanting desperately to get this over with. "Jerro...he has invested too much of his life in fighting your master to be turned. The same is true of the Gith. She's as much a fanatic as he is."

Garius shrugged dismissively. "Perhaps they only require the right incentive. We could promise to restore Jerro's granddaughter that he murdered to him."

Bishop went through his mental list of their other companions. "The tiefling might run off before the last fight if she loses her nerve, but you'll never get her to turn against her. She's her favorite pet baatezu. The same goes for the dwarf. He doesn't have sense enough to get out. He's only interested in the fight. Sand? He's more of a possibility, I think. He's very close to her, but you know how mages are." Bishop bit his lip to keep from smirking at Black Garius's derisive snort. "I'm just saying...he studied with the Hosttower, didn't he? Maybe you only need to figure out the right incentive to lure him to your side—some of your artifacts of power? There had to be a reason he went to study with the Hosttower. The only other one is the gnome. He's a half-wit...but on the other hand he _has_ managed to reactivate that construct you left behind."

Black Garius raised an eyebrow. "Has he? I suppose that's not surprising for a gnome. Nevertheless, it's only one construct. But I doubt it will respond to the code word we gave it anymore."

Bishop brightened as a new idea occurred to him. "There's a code word to control it? That's something worth pursuing. I'll convince the half-wit that someone else should know what it is in case something happens to him. I think that might work."

Garius looked pleased for once. "Yes, it might work at that. For now I want you to haunt the Shard-bearer like her own shadow. I don't want you to remain behind here any longer. Do what it takes to make yourself indispensable to her. You may summon me by calling to me three times through the mirror when you have something else to report. That will be all." He faded from view, summarily dismissing the ranger, who cursed him in his mind with the most vile curses he could think of.

Bishop was afraid to breathe until he was safely out of the room in case he was still being watched. He retraced his steps outside the Keep then found Karnwyr and reentered the Keep through the same gate he had left through. He shrugged at the guard. "No luck tonight. Something's spooked all the game."

He entered the Keep proper and went down the stairs and found Grobnar in the basement polishing one of the many blades protruding from the construct. He looked it over for a while examining the workmanship before asking, "Are you sure this thing is safe? I'd hate to see it rampage through the Keep. It would kill half the 'Cloaks before we brought it down, and think of those brats running around here."

Grobnar paused in his polishing and beamed up at him. "Oh yes, he's quite safe, Sir Bishop. He responds only to whoever has given him the code word. Be a good construct and show Sir Bishop your arm." He tittered at Bishop as the construct thrust his arm in Bishop's direction, who ducked in alarm. Karnwyr growled and backed up. "Wonderful! That's enough for now. Step back against the wall." He smiled sweetly and went back to polishing the construct.

Bishop inched closer to the construct. "Code word, you say? That's a really good idea. But what if something happens to you? What happens to the construct if you get killed or knocked out and can't control it? Won't it go berserk then?"

Grobnar gasped in alarm. "Oh my, I hadn't thought about that, Sir Bishop. You're right, I should make sure the Knight Captain has the code word too."

Bishop nodded sagely. "Good idea, and you should probably give it to me too for safety's sake. I would also change it every tenday too. Unless that's too hard to do?" He gave the gnome his most practiced look of concern.

Grobnar poured some more sweet-smelling oil on the rag he was using. "Ah yes, good thinking! I certainly don't know what we would do without you. Unfortunately, it's extremely difficult to change the word unless we can get the proper spell components again, and I don't know if we can get more wyvern's blood, so we had better be careful. The word is "Whitethistle," but you have to sing it like this." He trilled the word in a falsetto voice. "Do you think you can do it like that, Sir Bishop? Repeat after me." He sang the word again and listened until Bishop repeated it to his satisfaction. He beamed at Bishop and patted him on the leg. "Well done! Now I can rest easy knowing you'll take care of him if anything awful should happen to me."

Bishop smiled benignly down at him. "I'll rest easy too knowing we won't lose control of it. I wouldn't trouble the Knight Captain about it though. She has enough to worry about. Why just this afternoon Aldanon told me she might be possessed by the shard that's in her chest, that is if it's still..." He paused and wrinkled his brow as if trying to remember the word. "Sentient? Anyway, he was pretty alarmed and said he was going to discuss it with Zhjaeve."

Grobnar gasped again and looked very worried. "You don't say! Oh my, that would be a terrible thing to be controlled by a sentient weapon! I found one once that time I had to ride that minotaur!"

Bishop fought to hide a smirk at not only getting control of the construct, but also spreading the rumor he started and suspecting that the story about the Knight Captain's possession would probably be spread around the Keep by the little fool within a day. But Bishop realized he looked as if he was about to begin one of his long, ridiculous stories, so he cut him off. "I better let you get back to your work. I have to take the mutt outside before he pisses on the floor. Sure is a relief to know the Construct is in good hands." He turned and sprinted up the stairs, his ribs aching from holding in his laughter.

Grobnar called over his shoulder, "Yes indeed, quite a relief!"

He began whistling as he worked until the ranger was up the stairs and the door on the landing had closed. He whistled more softly and padded over to the stairwell to make sure he was gone. Satisfied, he walked back to the construct. "Yes indeed," he whispered to the construct as he pushed open a panel and adjusted a few levers. "I'd be quite relieved now that Sir Bishop has your code word...if I was an utter moron. Now what is he up to?"


	33. 101 Uses for a Dead Dragon

Chapter 33 101 Uses for a Dead Dragon

Usual disclaimers: The characters are owned by a lot of other people and not by me except a bear-lovin' ranger, a handsome bear, and an occasional NPC.

As always, concrit is greatly appreciated.

Those two wagons Bishop saw being readied that evening on his way to meet with Black Garius were only the first two of many sent to the Knight Captain's camp on Mount Galardrym to collect the spoils of the dragon's lair. In fact, Kana sent along two squads of Greycloaks and as many wagons as the Keep had available, and then as many more as she could commandeer from merchants staying at the Keep as well as miners and wagons from the miners' guild.

Bishop learned to his dismay later that night at the festhall that they had killed a dragon, and not the other way around. Word was Edario was going along to examine the creature's hide to see if there was enough intact for him to craft a suit of armor and was going to bring back claws and teeth for Jacoby to craft into weapons. Aldanon's senior apprentice was going to salvage what distillable components he could from the corpse. Bishop lost all interest in the wench on his lap and instead got a bottle of ice whiskey to drink himself into oblivion in his room alone. He decided he shouldn't inform Black Garius of this turn of events until he also had something better to report, something that would spare him more torture.

Several days later one of the guards stationed atop the wall shouted that he saw the dust of wagons and riders headed towards the Keep. In no time at all the word spread, so soon everyone from the farmers in the fields to the staff inside the Keep abandoned what they were doing to come out and stare down the road and crowd along either side of it, everyone that is except the Greycloaks who were on duty and refused to let themselves be distracted. Kana stepped out to the front of the crowd, with Sir Nevalle was right behind her followed by Zhjaeve, Grobnar, Aldanon and his apprentices, and even Torio Claven. Bishop tried to stay away but found that he couldn't, so he and Karnwyr also pushed through to the front though he cursed himself for his weakness. The gates creaked open as the first wagon drew near, and the Knight Captain led her companions into the Keep.

The crowd broke into cheers as they rode in, and Bishop gasped despite himself as she rode into view. In place of her usual leathers she was wearing a suit of delicate silvery chain mail, which was so finely wrought it could only be elven workmanship. It caught the midday light and sparkled like diamonds. What had looked like a coif at a distance he realized was her cool pale hair, which hung loose and came nearly to her shoulders now. The way the midday sun lit her, all in silver and tanned and riding her golden horse with her bear ambling alongside, she didn't look mortal, and he remembered the first time he lay eyes on her that night in Duncan's tavern when a trick of the light enhanced by the drink, made her look for a moment like she was surrounded by a golden aura. But she was just a wench, he reminded himself with disgust. He knew that better than anyone here.

Her palomino mare pranced, lifting her long legs high, tossing her mane and flicking her tail, and he swore the damned bear was prancing too. The fool paladin rode up on his huge black stallion, right behind her as usual as if he was afraid to let her get too far out of his sight. She smiled and waved to the cheering crowd. Bishop thought as a wave of sadness swept over him suddenly that she still had one of the most beautiful smiles he had ever seen on a wench as she caught sight of him, beamed at him and mouthed his name. He felt a tightness growing in his chest. He never hated her as much as he did at that moment, and as he felt himself grin foolishly and he waved back he was sure she deserved everything that was coming.

The rest rode by next, and right behind them was the first of a line of wagons flanked by a squad of stout dwarven warriors led by Khelgar on his sturdy mountain pony. He wore a thick belt with an elaborate buckle over his simple monk's garb and carried a huge war hammer casually slung over his shoulder, and he hopped off his horse and directed the dwarves to the grassy field next to the inn where they were to make camp until they found them more permanent quarters. "We don't want to be too far from the ale, do we now?" he bellowed, and they laughed heartily and followed him.

Dee swung a long leg across her horse's back and slipped lightly off her once they were front of Nevalle and Kana, grinning giddily like a child with pile of presents on Midwinter morning. Casavir dismounted and walked up beside her as stable hands broke through the throng and led their horses away and some of the house staff took their travel bags to their rooms. The others dispersed as soon as they were relieved of their horses, Elanee hugging Zhjaeve then grabbing arm her excitedly and walking off with her towards the fields and the Githzerai's first turnip crop, while Ammon Jerro's seething glower made the throng part to let him pass as he stalked inside to his quarters. Qara aped Jerro's glower and pushed her way through, but no one cared to stop her anyway.

Sand and Neeshka stayed to accept congratulations from Grobnar, who cornered them immediately and insisted on hearing what he missed in hopes of getting material for a new song, and congratulations and offers of drinks from off-duty Greycloaks and the staff of the festhall. Sand whispered to Neeshka, as they let themselves be led away for just one drink that they both knew would turn into several, "I'm anxious to get to work in my laboratory. I can't stop thinking of all the things I could enchant with the gems we found. I swear I'm salivating at the very thought! I believe I shall lock myself away for two or three days at least after today."

Neeshka giggled and whispered as she patted her bag, "Yeah? I'm even more anxious to get to my chamber and lock the door so I can pour out my magic bag on the bed and look at all my loot! Then I have to count it! Then I think I'll roll around in it naked! Then I've got to find somewhere really safe to hide it!"

The Cormyran twins from the festhall waved at Sand coyly and simultaneously blew him a kiss. He had discovered while using the Paint cantrip on their hair that one of them had a talent for sorcery as she was able to repeat the spell almost immediately, and so he had taught her more cantrips. He couldn't help but notice that now her hair was royal blue. But she had learned Magic Missile nearly as quickly as she learned the cantrips and then a few other more mundane spells, so he had thoughts of helping her gain entrance into the Academy when the autumn session started. The other twin was an acolyte of Sharess who he discovered also had a talent for potion making, and so he tutored her as well in what spare time he had. They repaid his efforts with their other considerable talents, and he knew it would be tomorrow at least before he was in any condition for serious spellcasting.

Dee and Casavir spoke with Kana and Nevalle as the rest of the wagons, guarded by Greycloaks, rolled into the Keep. Kana called for silence then Dee stepped forward to address them, thanked and released those who had volunteered to meet them and called for fresh volunteers to unload the wagons. Three dozen Greycloaks stepped forward at once, grabbed a bag or two, and marched into the Keep followed by the two young Tyrran clerks Judge Oleff had sent, who were charged with counting the gold and estimating the value of the other treasure.

Sir Nevalle handed her a package sent to her from his mother and watched the line of Greycloaks carrying the bags. "A percentage must be sent to Lord Nasher, but I know I don't need to remind you of that."

Dee only nodded, proud of herself for resisting the urge to muss his hair and mutter, "Well Lord Nasher can find his own dragon then," but Casavir squeezed her hand as if he could read her mind. Instead she opened the package, which was full of satin swatches. She cast a puzzled look at Casavir, who only shrugged. They both turned to Nevalle for an explanation.

Sir Nevalle saw the confusion on her face, so he explained. "Mother had those sent from one of her favorite dress makers for your wedding clothes. She wanted me to help you choose one and remind you that a proper bride of your station absolutely must wear satin. She says nothing else will do."

Dee thought, "Sure, I have all the time in the world to choose fabric, and it all looks the same to me anyway," but instead she smiled sweetly and said, "Thank you, Gilles, I'll keep that in mind, and I'd be honored if you chose for me." She was learning to delegate responsibility. She added, "Mayhap you can help Cas choose his wedding clothes too."

Casavir gasped and paled at the thought, and she squeezed his hand. He whispered, "He'll put me in one of those codpieces. They're indecent!"

Nevalle smiled brightly and practically snatched the package back from her. "I was hoping you would say that." If he had his way, she would look like a knight and not like a farmer at her wedding.

She nodded at the Greycloaks carrying the sacks into the Keep proper and told him, "Once I know how much we have and Lord Nasher has been given his share, some of it is also to be set aside for the temple of Tyr for its upkeep and to fund the school and mayhap an orphanage." She knew there would be need enough for that in the coming days. "I want to set aside enough to build the shrines to Mystra and Tymora I promised Sand and Neesh, and I want to improve the shrine to Kelemvor...for Shandra's sake..." She tried unsuccessfully again not to think about those who would surely die in her service, but she resolved that at least would pay their way to the god of the dead. "But first I want to finish my shrine for Meilikki." Casavir shot her a guilty look, and she felt a twinge in her heart. But she was determined to have her shrine to Meilikki built whether Casavir had time to finish the image or not, so a rough image of the goddess would have to do.

Khelgar returned with a small group of dwarves and Dee stepped aside and let him introduce the Ironfist sergeants to Kana and Nevalle. There was one female dwarven sergeant who was tall for a dwarf, the famous Khalia the Red, named for her long flaming braids reaching almost to her knees when they weren't coiled tightly around her ears. She bore a shield nearly as big as she was and a broad battle ax on her hip. Dee caught her giving Khelgar a long appraising look when his back was turned. Dee and Neeshka had made her acquaintance on the way back then conspired together about getting her and the unexpectedly shy Khelgar alone some time. (Neeshka giggled that he blushed as red as her hair when she looked at him). A few of the dwarves who had already set up their tents were examining Master Veedle's stonework, and Dee whispered to Casavir, "I'll know within a day whether our gold was well spent."

Kana's first thought as she looked down the road at the dwarven camp which had nearly taking shape was "I've just gotten the lizard people settled." But she was glad despite the extra work that they had more allies, and said, "There are several matters which require your attention, Captain, but I think you must be tired and hungry."

Dee thought wryly that there would probably always be several important matters that required her immediate attention whether she was tired or hungry or not, but she replied with a sly grin, "Very well, but do you have time for me to go to the privy on your schedule?"

Kana responded with an uncharacteristic wink and pointed. "Yes, see, it's right here. In fact, I've scheduled you two privy breaks."

Dee laughed loudly and slapped her on the back. "And a luncheon break? I've been thinking about eating somethin' other than trail rations all morning." She sniffed herself discreetly. "I'd like to wash off the dust and put on some clean clothes first, but that can wait until supper I guess, as long as cook sends me a plate of whatever he has on hand and I can eat while we work. But tonight I'd like supper served in the War Room for all my companions. We have much to discuss, and I'd like you and Sir Nevalle to join us."

Torio Claven was standing by herself behind Sir Nevalle, and Dee was struck by how forlorn she looked when her guard was down. Without thinking about it she said, "Torio, would you join us too?" The former ambassador blinked and quickly replied, "Yes, of course." Dee called over a few of Wolf's crew and handed them each a gold piece. "Can you take a message to the festhall to the Widow so she makes sure Grobby, Sand and Neesh get back to the Keep in time for supper, and go find Elanee and Zhjaeve?" She looked around until she spotted Bishop lingering nearby and called out, "Bish, you'll be there?" There was just enough pleading in her look and her voice that he decided it wasn't an order and grunted his assent and walked over.

At that moment Sydney Natale's servant Kraven squeezed through the dispersing crowd and squeaked nervously, "Captain err Lady Farlong. Please, if I may have a moment of your time. I bring greetings from Luskan..."

Bishop glared at him and snapped angrily, "Luskan? She doesn't give a shit about any greetings from Luskan."

Dee was taken aback. She too had been tempted to say she had no care for any proposal of Luskan's, but she reminded herself she represented Lord Nasher as his knight, and it also occurred to her that Luskan might have realized by now the King of Shadows was a threat to their city too and might have a legitimate offer of help. And she recalled he had asked to speak to her before she left to be knighted and here he was, still waiting to speak with her. She didn't trust Luskan, and she trusted its new ambassador about as far as she could throw her, but she felt sorry for the little man. She put her hand on his arm and smiled kindly. "I'm sorry you've had to wait so long! I will have Kana will put you on the schedule for this afternoon or tomorrow morning at the latest if there's no time today."

Kana looked over her schedule and shook her head in the affirmative and replied crisply, "If you see him right before your dinner, but only if it's a brief proposal. Otherwise he will have to wait until tomorrow."

"Oh, I'll be very brief, your ladyship." He looked at her hopefully, and Dee was struck by the fact that his eyes did rather resemble those of a little dog begging for table scraps.

"I will listen to your proposal tonight if possible." Dee pondered the many rules of etiquette (far too many for her liking) and wondered if she should invite him to eat with them, but he wasn't an ambassador, and besides, she wanted this evening for her companions, and she could get their advice on Luskan's proposal. "Kana will send word to you to let you know one way or the other."

He looked visibly relieved as if he'd been trapped under one of Veedle's huge stones and was suddenly released, which made Dee feel even more guilty. He grabbed her hand and stammered, "Oh th..thank you, thank you, your ladyship." He bowed deeply and scurried off to his room in the inn. Bishop laughed coarsely and called out, "Don't wet yourself, dog."

Dee put a hand on Casavir's shoulder, sensing he had had about as much of the ranger as he could take. She shot Bishop a look and mouthed, "Be nice," which he answered with a sneer. She shook her head then paused almost in mid-stride. Casavir, Kana, and Cillian all paused too with quizzical looks. Dee shook her head and muttered, "That was strange."

Casavir put his hand on her shoulder and looked at her with concern. "Is something amiss?"

Dee shrugged and blushed, feeling foolish. "I just had a funny sensation. It gave me the shivers. It was like someone was lookin' over my shoulder. It's silly, I know. Let's go in."

They entered the Keep proper, which was cool despite the heat outside because of the thick stone it was built of. As she took her seat in the audience chamber and Kana's scribe brought up a folding table laden with documents to sign while Kana summoned the representatives from merchant costers that wanted to do business at the Keep, Dee leaned over and whispered to Casavir, "You don't have to be stuck here all afternoon too, love. You wanted to go to the temple. Kana and I can handle this, and Cill's here if anyone gets out of line." Cillian looked up from where he was sitting near her feet gnawing on half a deer's ribcage the cook had sent over for him and grinned bearishly.

He smiled at her warmly and kissed her cheek and whispered out of Kana's earshot, "Thank you, my lady. I'll be back to free you in time for you to get a proper bath so you don't have to rush."

She arched an eyebrow and whispered back, "I had kinda hoped we would have time for an improper bath." His ears turned beet red but he winked at her as he stood then strode towards the exit. Bishop watched him pass and followed him after a few moments as soon as enough time had passed that it wouldn't appear obvious.

Dee listened to Kana's report of the status of the Keep and signed documents for a good hour while she devoured half a roasted chicken (Cillian devoured the other half) and fresh asparagus with barley bread just out of the oven, being careful not to get any grease on the documents, and she told Kana between mouthfuls she would have Neeshka get more information about the merchant costers as only Neeshka could before she made a final decision.

They discussed the hard-fought windfall they had received. "Should be more than enough there to build those guard towers and bridges Veedle suggested. The Greycloaks who volunteered to go meet us have already been given bonuses, but I'd like something to be given to the other Greycloaks and a present for all the Keep's staff too." She thought about that for a moment. "Mayhap a pair of shoes." She caught Kana rolling her eyes and stuck her tongue out at her. "Fine, not shoes, mayhap just some coins so they can buy what they want, or save 'em if they want. And after that I think we should pay all of Lord Nasher's levy on the farmers for next year as well as this year. They might be hard-pressed to come up with it next year if there's fightin' in the fields and the crops get wiped out."

With nearly everything demanding her attention dealt with, she and Cillian followed Kana to her office so she could hear a confidential report about the new sergeants. As they had expected, new recruits flocked to Light-of-Heavens. Kana was impressed at the sheer number of recruits she had attracted, especially given Dee's insistence that they only accept the best. "She's so good that Katriona has been able to assume more training duties, and she's also been going with the other sergeants who are leading patrols to the new villages on the surrounding lands so that Freya's and Bevil's squads can focus on patrolling the roads and discouraging the bandits."

"And how is Bevil coming along?" Dee interrupted to ask.

Kana examined her list briefly before replying. "Bevil. He's a hard worker. He's very...patient with the troops, sometimes too patient for my liking. He is a good instructor though." She paused as if considering her words carefully. "Sometimes, however, it's as if he's not here, Captain. He has been overcome by dark moods on a few occasions. Not enough to interfere with his duty, but enough to cause some concern." It mainly caused concern to Katriona, who was Kana's closest friend here at the Keep, and who had shared this concern with her a few days ago. "He seems to be deeply troubled, which I know is to be expected given his family history. But I sense there's something else, and Katriona agrees with me. It goes beyond grieving." She wrinkled her brow as she tried to find the right words to describe the emotion they had observed. "It's almost like...guilt, or shame. We thought that perhaps you might be able to talk with him and draw him out."

Dee sighed and shook her head sadly. "Poor Bevil. He was always so gentle, like his ma. I'm surprised sometimes that he even enlisted. It used to be all I could do some days to get him out to militia practice, but he knew he had a duty to do his part for the village. The rest of us Harbormen lost friends and family, but he's lost everyone. And not only his family, but his sweetheart Aimee too. They would have been married this past spring. And to top it off, he has to live with bein' Lorne Starling's brother. Remember Brother Ivarr talked about something he called 'survivor's guilt,' in one of his sermons as a warning to the Greycloaks not to keep their feelings bottled up until they explode."

Kana nodded. "Yes, I remember that, and it was good advice."

Dee frowned, concerned for her oldest friend. "Mayhap that's what it is, he feels guilty that they're gone yet he's still alive." She reflected for a moment on how similar he was to Casavir in that respect. "Since I'm the closest thing to kin he has left, so I'll talk to him tomorrow or the next day."

They looked over the duty rosters for a while until Dee said, "If we are finished here, I have enough time for a bath before I meet Kraven."

Kana replied with an utterly droll delivery worthy of Sand, "Indeed. However, I shall wait to have him summoned until you and your lord have returned and I'm certain you'll have time to speak with him."

Dee was still laughing as she closed the door and then headed for her room, keeping to the shadows as much as she could with a large bear in tow so that no one else might stop her for a 'word' that would be at least a hundred or a 'moment' that would stretch into an hour.

Casavir, meanwhile, had gone to the temple for a time of prayer and mediation in the cool quiet there. Brother Ivarr beckoned him into his office after the paladin finished his prayers and stood to light a candle. The dwarven priest motioned Casavir to a wooden chair, which was a bit too small to accommodate someone of his height, and so he sat awkwardly with his knees halfway to his chin. At the priest's request Casavir gave him an account of their time on Mount Galardrym, ending with an earnest proclamation, "But thanks be to Tyr for helping us to prevail and bringing us all back safely."

The priest poured them each a goblet of a yellow-green herbal liquor that he brewed in the cellar that Casavir thought smelled like linseed oil as he listened. He handed one to the paladin. "And how are you, young man? I'm sure you know I called you in here because as your spiritual advisor, I feel I must continue our last discussion." What was unsaid was that he had been asked by Prior Hlam to observe the young paladin. "You've been in my prayers since that day. Has our lord eased your doubts regarding any conflict between your relationship with the Knight Captain and your relationship with him?"

Casavir took a sip and frowned at the topic as much as at the bitter taste of the potent drink, regretting that he had even brought up what to him was only a passing thought. "I think so. I've looked into my heart, Father, and I don't believe as you suggested last time that I have doubts simply because I'm growing tired of being with her or that our relationship is only carnal. Far from it, we often go days with no time for physical relations as we are often camping or too tired at the end of the day for anything more than holding each other while we drift off to sleep. I care for her deeply, and she cares deeply for me as well. I put her first ahead of my own desires and needs. For example, I've conquered my need to rush to her side to protect her in battle because I realized that doing so diminished her in the eyes of the others. Nor is it just, as she's become a formidable fighter. I have searched my heart and found that I am...content when I am with her, happy even, as I have not been in a very long time." He grimaced painfully at exposing this much of himself even to a priest but covered this with another forced drink of the vile liquor.

Brother Ivarr quaffed his own drink and poured himself another. "So you care about one another, and she makes you happy. Then what _is_ the problem?"

Casavir took another sip and sighed. "I'm not sure, Brother. I _am_ happy. Moreover, she tries to finds ways to make me happy. She seeks my opinion on everything from allocation of funds to how she should wear her hair. It's silly I know, but that means much to me. The problem is when we are not together. But she insists I should have time for myself, for my art, and she wants me to keep my own chamber so I have a place to be alone with my thoughts and to meditate before our lord. Yet when I am alone for too long I fall into my old habits of brooding. I fear sometimes that my feelings for her are _too_ strong, and that in the end I will put her before Tyr."

The priest shrugged and stated the obvious. "And that is why many of your calling choose a solitary life, though Tyr certainly doesn't require it. You are a healthy young man with a man's needs, and Tyr understands that. I still think there's more you're not saying, and as your priest I want to get to the bottom of it, though I'll probably send you running for the door again." But his gray eyes shone with compassion. "Could it be that you are content for now with her while you both face imminent death, but you fear the happiness won't last? It's easy enough for young men of your melancholic temperament to give up your life for a cause such as hers, but to live, now that's another matter entirely."

Casavir frowned and indeed looked toward the door as if seeking an escape. This priest had an uncanny habit of exposing his deepest fears, things that sometimes he wasn't aware of himself until they were exposed to the light of day. He turned back to the priest trying to hide his irritation. "I have asked her to marry me, and she has agreed. I would certainly call that a commitment to her, to us, and to our future. The only thing I question is whether it possible to be a husband and someday perhaps a father, and at the same time to serve Tyr as his paladin, especially considering that there's a good chance I'll leave her a widow with children to raise alone if I continue down this path."

The priest smiled gently and patted his hand. "Possible. Indeed, it is very possible, though it's a delicate balance. Besides, those anecdotes about paladins dying young in a blaze of righteous glory don't match the facts. I can tell you that a good many paladins die in their own beds of old age. I would suggest you look into your heart and ask yourself if you asked her to marry you because you want to spend your life with her, or if you did it for some other reason, such as a fear of losing her to another. That begs another question, my boy. Are you strong enough to part from your lady if Tyr were to require it of you?"

Casavir looked stricken at the thought, but he nodded his head. "Yes, though I feel he has sent me to help her with her life's mission. There is no other explanation for the way our paths crossed at Old Owl Well. I believe that if she has been called to defeat the King of Shadows, I have been called to stand by her side until the end."

The priest cocked his head and grinned at him in a way that made Casavir wonder how much he had drunk already before he came in. "But again, it's not so much dying for her as it is living with her afterwards that's difficult, isn't it?" He refilled his glass and moved to refill Casavir's, but he shook his head and hastily put his hand over the top. Brother Ivarr chuckled merrily. "It's an acquired taste, but you'll find it's very good for the digestion." Casavir didn't look convinced, and the priest regarded him for a heartbeat before he continued, "You lost your parents when you were very young, as I understand it from your file. Were they happy together? Did they quarrel? Was your father faithful to your mother?"

Casavir sat back in his chair, pain darkening his handsome face. "I hardly remember them. I was very young when they died."

Brother Ivarr patted his arm. "I believe you were about seven or eight, were you not? That's certainly old enough for them to have formed a strong impression upon you even if your memories are fading. I understand that it's painful to dredge up the past, but doing so may provide the answers to your questions."

Casavir muttered a terse "Very well," and took a deep calming breath and drained his goblet before he began. "From what I remember, my father adored my mother. They were always touching and kissing. He called her his muse, and indeed I see her face in the many angels that adorn the tombs in Neverwinter." He closed his eyes tightly and struggled to find the words. "Their relationship was very passionate in every way." He flushed crimson as he recalled how he and his brothers would pretend they didn't hear the sounds of their parents' passion coming from their room late in the night. "But yes..they did quarrel too. They both had volatile tempers, my mother especially." The priest nodded and encouraged him to continue.

Casavir closed his eyes for a moment as he thought. "One of the last things I remember is being awakened late one night by the sound of something breaking. I was always a light sleeper, so I crept out of bed to see what was the matter. I couldn't make out my father's words because they were slurred, but my mother clearly said between sobs, 'You always want to bed your models. Do you expect me to feel lucky that you choose to come home to me?' I didn't understand her words, but I remember the look of utter desolation on her tear-streaked face. I don't know what came over me, but suddenly I was filled with hatred for him. I ran out and jumped at him, pounding him with my little fists. I remember he reeked of strong drink. He grabbed me and pinned my arms to my sides until my fury was spent and I collapsed sobbing against his chest, not saying a thing, but I could feel his tears falling on my head. I remember my mother kneeling beside me and putting her arms around me too, stroking my hair and telling me that everything was alright and that sometimes adults had disagreements. They held me until I had no more tears and my father took me from my mother and carried me back to my bed. That was mere tendays before the plague that took their lives struck our village."

The priest smiled tightly, finally getting somewhere. "Can it be you're you afraid you'll become like your father? Yet I can't see _you_ plowing other fields." He tapped his chin with his thick index finger. "Or is it...you fear your lady will tire of you? Or worse, that you'll have her snatched away from you as your family was? If you're alone, you don't have to fear the pain of loss. Easier, yes, but think of the happiness you would be denying yourself. Loss is part of life, my boy. Even if you fear one of you or both won't survive, I would advise you to take advantage of the time you have left." Casavir said nothing, being deep in thought. The priest smiled kindly and took the glass from him. "You may go now, I'm through with my interrogation, and moreover, it's time for my nap."

Casavir stood stiffly and walked to the door. "Thank you, Brother. I shall think on what you said and seek our lord on the matter." He walked out of the temple into the afternoon heat and back to the Keep, feeling like the priest had eviscerated him, but feeling cleansed at the same time.

Bishop had followed him out of the Keep proper and waited for him squatting in the shade outside the temple until he came out. He followed him back, hoping to catch him alone and drop a few insinuations, but Sir Nevalle hailed Casavir, who turned and met him halfway to his tower. He talked with Casavir for a few moments, showing him what looked like a letter. Bishop cursed under his breath and waited out of sight until the knight walked away and Casavir entered the Keep proper, and then he waited a few heartbeats and followed him in. There was no one but a guard in the audience chamber, but Casavir and Bishop both noted that Kana's office door was shut. He watched the paladin hesitate outside the door with his hand raised to knock then turn and walk to the stairs leading up to their private chambers. He crossed the chamber quickly to catch him.

Dee left Kana's office minutes later. She and Cillian moved quietly so she could avoid any encounters except the one she wanted. As she neared the landing she heard voices, and there was something about the tone that made her pause and lean against the wall. One was Casavir's deep baritone saying coldly, "My problems are my own, not Neverwinter's, or yours."

She listened to hear who he was speaking with and realized the other was Bishop, saying, "A man's gotta be honest not only with himself, but with his comrades and his allies." What could he mean by that? Her first instinct was to step out from the shadows and let them know she was there. But for some reason she didn't understand she drew back further and motioned Cillian behind her and eavesdropped, blushing with shame while she did. She couldn't make out Casavir's deep rumbling reply, only something about 'feelings for her.' She realized they were arguing about her and it wasn't simply Bishop playing his favorite game, 'Taunt the paladin.'

Just then Karnwyr looked over in her direction, and Dee was sure he must have caught her scent or Cillian's as she heard Bishop saying something like, "It's going to bring trouble if you're not honest with yourself _this_ time around." He glanced towards the wolf then towards her hiding place and gave her a sardonic grin and turned on his heel and walked off towards the back stairs.

Bishop felt oddly elated though he knew the danger he was in if she confronted him and ordered him away from the Keep. Garius's geas would kill him for sure. Once he was out of her range of vision he bolted down the stairs. He thought as he escaped. If she confronted him, he could act contrite. He could make himself a good little dog like that Luskan, and show her he was still a wolf later. That's the problem with these holy types, he mused. If you say you're sorry and act like it, they have to believe you. He would just have to watch himself.

Casavir gritted his teeth and sent a silent prayer to Tyr for strength to resist the ranger's taunts. He turned and walked to their door, but then he thought better of it. He needed to think, and he needed communicate with Tyr, and that wouldn't happen if she was waiting for him there. He walked on and went into his old room.

Dee continued to watch Casavir as he stood there, barely restrained anger etched on his handsome face. Her heart caught in her throat as he turned in the direction that Bishop had gone because she feared that whatever Bishop had said had pushed Casavir over the edge, and she went up another step to catch him. But he quickly composed himself as he always did and walked to their door to their private chamber. Yet once he reached the door, he stood there staring at it then walked on to his own chamber. Dee closed her eyes and leaned back against the wall and whispered, "Bish, what are you up to?"


	34. Treachery

Chapter 34 Treachery

The woman in white paced nervously in the shadowy chamber as the portal came alive, swirling with a maelstrom of colors. A dark point in the center expanded and grew, and then there was a flash of light, and a bald woman wearing the robes and bearing the distinctive tattoos of a Red Wizard of Thay stepped through into the gloom. A casual observer would assume they were twins because their appearance was so similar. The woman in white ran to her side and clutched her arm and regarded her with a worried look, and there was a tone of admonishment in her voice. "I've been waiting days to travel to the Coveya Kurg'annis. You took longer to return than I expected. Has something happened, Nefris?"

The woman in red smiled triumphantly and put an arm around her twin, leading her into a small library in the next room. "Lienna, I think I've found the one. I told you we've been scrying the Sword Coast among other places; it's far enough away that our agents can capture our...subject and bring him or her back here, and there will be little that even their most powerful mages and priests can do to track us or thwart our plans until he or she succeeds...or fails again." She scowled for a moment as she set up a crystal sphere on a wooden tripod on a table and brought over a candle stick enchanted with a Light spell, yet its light was feeble against the deep shadowy gloom.

The white sister sat down at the table and peered at the sphere hopefully. "Did you locate that Hero of Neverwinter mentioned in that play Magda bought from the bard from Waterdeep? Is she everything the play says she is?"

The red woman shook her head. "No, I've had no luck whatsoever locating her. Whatever powers she and her consort amassed during the Neverwinter-Luskan War and its aftermath are being used to hide her quite effectively. It's as if she's simply fallen off the face of Toril. But while I was trying to learn what happened to the remains of Akachi's sword, I made an interesting discovery. Look here."

The white twin leaned forward and peered into the sphere as her sister uttered words of magic while she made a few esoteric gestures. "You have found its remnants then?" Clouds swirled in the sphere then rapidly dispersed though the image was still hazy. She saw a blond figure in silver chain mail on a golden horse leading a procession. She muttered with disdain, "What a pretty boy, but he looks too young for our purposes, Nefris. Oh! It's a woman, but she still looks very young. And what does this have to do with the sword?" She watched as an armored dark-haired man on a huge black stallion rode up beside her. "Mmm, tall, dark, and handsome," she thought, and murmured, "Now he looks the heroic type, and he wears the insignia of a paladin."

"She is young indeed, but she's already a knight of Neverwinter." The red twin grinned like the cat who caught the canary and muttered another magical phrase. There was a brief glow around the woman in the globe's chest, and she looked alarmed for a heartbeat as she looked around angrily and put her hand over her chest, as if she could feel their scrying. "Did you see that? I've had one of our agents searching for the shards, and he traced them to several lords in Neverwinter who have all been murdered. The shards have since found their way to her, and if I'm not mistaken, it's because she has one embedded in her chest! She must have been present at the battle where the sword was destroyed a little over twenty years ago and been in the path of the shrapnel, and that shard draws the rest to it and to her." She frowned as a bald man whose head was etched with glowing tattoos rode into view. "That one there...I remember him. He studied at the Academy years ago, but he has aged little since then! Jerro, I think it was. He's as dangerous and ruthless as he looks. I learned he was obsessed with finding the Sword of Gith, Akachi's sword. I'm not surprised then that he's found his way to her side."

The white twin looked skeptical as she peered at the woman again. "I still say she looks too young. We must be certain she's up to the challenge, even if she is a knight."

Her twin smiled and draped an arm around her shoulder. "Don't worry, we'll be watching her closely. She's young enough she doesn't know to keep a low profile."

Dee struggled against the urge to chase Bishop and demand an answer as well as a stronger urge to follow Casavir for the same reason. "Yeah, might as well cut 'em off if I have to go fightin' his battles for him," she muttered to herself in resignation. Cillian nuzzled her as she stood there long enough that Casavir wouldn't see her or know she had heard anything. The head housekeeper and two of the young housemaids came up the stairs behind her and stopped several steps back and out of range of the bear, and Dee realized after she cleared her throat to get her attention they were waiting for her to go on. She blushed scarlet as the housekeeper asked, "Is something wrong, Lady Farlong?"

Dee continued up the stairs and called over her shoulder, "No, I was...thinking about something." She quickly opened the door and stepped in with Cillian at her heels, and sat at her desk so one of the maids could help remove her boots, still feeling the heat in her cheeks betraying her embarrassment at the obvious lie. The housekeeper helped Dee strip off her new chainmail armor, pausing and marveling at the delicateness and lightness of the metal. She told her Khelgar said it was mithril and elven make. It was a change from her leather brigandine for sure, and she had half a mind to see if it fit Zhjaeve as they had confiscated similar armor last year from some bandits who attacked them that Elanee now wore. Dee placed it on one of the armor stands and pulled her brigandine out of her bag of holding and put it on the other stand, the one Casavir often used.

Dee shed her clothing, tossed it in the laundry basket, and unpacked the soiled clothing she had taken with her as well as Casavir's as the housekeeper and the maids waited. She was still awkward having the staff standing around to wait on her hand and foot, but she was getting used to it. She thought wryly, "At least they don't want to wait on me in the privy."

"The water has cooled, I'm afraid," the housekeeper said as she picked up the basket and handed it to one of the girls. "Would you like the girls to freshen it?" Neither girl looked enthused at the prospect of hauling more water even if Master Veedle had managed to reactivate the ancient Illefarn water piping system to bring water throughout the Keep.

But Dee found the coolness of the water a pleasant change from the afternoon heat in her room despite the heavy drapes drawn across the window to block out the sunlight. "Don't worry, Mrs. Fairfax. Can you send word to Kana that I have decided I will meet with the Luskan before dinner?"

"Of course, Lady Farlong." She curtsied and sent one of the girls off with the laundry and sent the other to give the message to Kana while she opened the wardrobe and laid out fresh clothing for her lady and her lady's absent lord. It wasn't lost on any of them that the Knight Captain had been watching someone in the hallway, nor that she looked upset though she was trying to hide it, nor that her betrothed wasn't with her, and she wanted to follow the girls to make sure they didn't spread gossip. "If there's nothing else, Lady Farlong?" She curtsied again after Dee shook her head and left the Knight Captain to her thoughts.

Dee ducked her head under the water then sat up and washed and rinsed her hair. She sighed and sat against the back of the tub and glanced towards his room, the urge to go to him irritating her like something crawling under her skin. She could hear him moving around his room through the shared fireplace, and she yearned to plead with him to tell her what was wrong and tell him he didn't have to concern himself with Bishop. But he had to work this out himself, she scolded herself. "Mayhap I need to think about whether 'tis time to send Bishop packing," she murmured to Cillian, who chuffed in agreement. She shook her head and Cillian ambled over and nuzzled her hand. She got out of the tub and stood there listening to Casavir and again fought temptation to go to him. She felt helpless and couldn't decide what to do. So instead of barging into his room she offered up a quiet prayer to Tyr for his sake, and for wisdom for herself in dealing with the Luskans.

Feeling better, she finished drying off and pulled on the white silk small clothes trimmed with ruffles and pink ribbon that she knew he especially liked. She started to dress, but she decided she had time enough to lie on her bed and close her eyes for a short nap before Kana sent for her. As she lay there dozing between sleep and wakefulness, she heard the door from the solar open then heard Casavir's familiar footsteps on the stone floor. She had her back to the door, but she could tell he was watching her, probably unsure whether to disturb her. She turned over to face him, forced a bright smile, and said, "Cas, there you are! I finished with Kana earlier than I thought so I decided to start without you. The water's cold by now, but I'll get more."

He had been watching her, his eyes traveling over the curves from her long strong legs to the swell of her hip and thinking how if nothing else, she had fleshed out since they became lovers because of his gentle insistence that she take time to eat. He smiled wanly and walked in and sat beside her on the bed and caressed her cheek. "It's fine, my lady." She wrapped her arms around him, and he did the same. He buried his face in her hair and murmured, "Your smell wonderful, and I must reek. I'm sorry."

She chuckled and rubbed her cheek along his stubble. "Yeah, and your hair's getting shaggy, but I like it longer, and I like your stink. You smell like a man should smell. I missed you."

"I don't feel as bad that I didn't return in time to liberate you from Kana if it gave you time to have a rest." Between his session with the priest and his encounter with Bishop, he was feeling shaken. In his room alone with his thoughts, it crossed his mind that if his feelings for her _were_ interfering with his relationship with Tyr, that Tyr might use a tool even as twisted as Bishop to reveal this to him. After only a moment the poisoned thought dissipated, though remnants of it lingered.

Then another thought arose to torment him. He had never seen it before, but today he realized after his talk about his parents with the priest that Dee reminded him of his mother, not only in her coloring, but also her spirit. He recalled that someone once told him that men sought out mates who were like their mothers, just as women sought out men like their fathers. He wondered before he decided he had thought enough on the matter if she saw the quiet elf he met in West Harbor in him.

"I'm glad you can tolerate my stink, but alas I cannot, though I don't think I have time to shave much less get a hair cut before we dine." He reluctantly broke away and walked over to the tub. He had removed his armor in his room and stripped to the waist, and she noticed as he knelt beside the wash tub to check the water that a few fine scars from the scourge were still visible on his back.

She watched him as he removed the rest of his clothing and got into the tub. "He has suffered so much on my account," she thought guiltily. She got up and picked up his discarded trewes and small clothes as he washed then knelt beside him and took the soap and a wash cloth and wet then lathered his rich dark hair, smiling at the way water brought out the slight curl when she ran her fingers through it. "You're quiet, love. Was Brother Ivarr hard on you?"

He shrugged dismissively as he gave in to the pleasant feeling of the scalp massage. "It's his job to guard my relationship with our Lord."

She scratched his scalp lightly, causing him to shiver. "He wants to talk with me about my dreams sometime. Should I feel lucky that I've been too busy to schedule it?"

He blushed crimson, having been the one who mentioned her dreams to the inquisitive priest, and he told her so. "I'm sorry, I only mentioned it in passing, but he seemed very interested."

She paused and drew back to look at him. "I considered talking about them with him too, so don't feel bad. I was hoping for some time alone with you this afternoon, but I want to get this audience with Kraven over with so we can discuss whatever proposal he offers at dinner tonight." She kissed his cheek and lightly pushed him forward so she could scrub his broad muscular shoulders and back.

"This is one of the many small pleasures of sharing my life with someone, with her," he thought. He turned his head to look at her over his shoulder, and he thought, "Surely our Lord wouldn't object to small pleasures like this." He could almost forget about his ordeal with the priest and with Bishop. He looked at her again and asked, "Wasn't his name Kralaver? I agree, we should deal with Luskan so we can discuss it with our companions as much as I'd like to spend the rest of the afternoon in your arms."

"Was that his name? Kraven seems to fit him though 'tis unkind of me to say it. Mayhap that's why I got stuck in my mind." She poured the rest of the bucket of clean water over his head slowly to rinse out the soap, and he shuddered as the cool water ran down his body. She smiled and hoped there would never come a day when he wouldn't respond like this to her touch. She said just above a whisper, "Yeah, most of our companions. The rest I'll listen to out of respect for their place in our company. But I would like to have you, Sand, and Jerro there when Kraven...er I mean Kralaver delivers the ambassador's message, though I'm not sure Sand's gonna be in any condition to help unless he takes his ale purgative. I'll send word to Jerro through one of Wolf's crew. He doesn't intimidate them like he does the house staff."

He arched an eyebrow and turned to look at her again. "Ammon Jerro? Why him?"

She shrugged. "He's ruthless, but I agree with him that we can't afford to turn down any aid to stop the King of Shadows, and he excels at pointing out my weaknesses." She stood and held up a clean towel for him as he got out. "On the other hand, I don't expect Qara to have anything worthwhile to say other than offering to blast the Luskans to the hells, but she may yet surprise me. And as for Bish..." She sat on the bed and pulled on the stockings and leggings laid out for her. Cillian looked up and growled.

He looked into her eyes. "Yes, Bishop." He dried himself off then began dressing, trying to hide the loathing in his voice echoing the bear's growl.

She shrugged again and finished dressing. "Yeah, Bish...He's a good scout, but as far as his advice goes, I've learned it's best to listen to his opinion then do the opposite of whatever he suggests."

He laughed ruefully but looked at her with concern as he tied the drawstring on his shirt. "Yes, it's usually wise to do the opposite of whatever he suggests. Yet I caution you to take care, my lady. Don't think it's lost on him that you ignore his advice. A man like him takes that as a slight, and he isn't one to forget or forgive easily." He was sorely tempted to tell her what Bishop had insinuated, that she was leading him away from Tyr, but he was afraid she would take it as jealousy on his part.

She walked over so he could lace up her bodice. "I know, Cas, and I am careful. I know everyone wonders why I keep him around. But he wants to be here and we need him, and I'll say it again, I won't give up on him until he gives me cause to. I pray for him every day. I have faith that the gods can reach even a heart as hardened against them as his."

He took her in his arms kissed her softly all of a sudden. "Every day? You make me ashamed that I don't follow your example."

She sighed softly, glad his mood had lightened. "Why don't we pray together now before we go to dinner?"

He took her hands and gazed into her eyes, the relief clear in his. "I agree, and then we can surprise Kana by arriving on time."

Dee listened to Sydney Natale's proposal in an anteroom for privacy, with Sand, Ammon Jerro, and Casavir present so they could give their opinion later. The proposal was odd to say the least. Kralaver explained that the Hosttower stored the true names of its mages as a contingency in the event they became too powerful and had to be reined in. Sydney Natale was convinced that knowing their true names would give them control over the shadow reavers, though he also admitted that amongst the Hosttower mages she was alone in this opinion. Dee had a sudden chilling thought that the Hosttower might have Sand's true name, and that it could be used against them. She returned her attention from her paranoid rambling thought back to the little man, who said his mistress would only reveal the information if Dee met her somewhere outside of the Keep. He implied his mistress didn't want the Hosttower to know what she was up to, hence the need for secrecy. The oddest part of his proposal though was his insistence that only Zhjaeve and Qara accompany Dee.

"Why just them?," she had asked incredulously. It didn't make sense, and it still made little sense nearly an hour later when she filled in the rest of her companions as they sat around the round table in the War Room. He hadn't had an answer that satisfied her either though she pressed him for one, and he appeared increasingly nervous from Dee's probing questions, but he was adamant that Sydney Natale would not be moved. Dee resisted the urge to comment that it would take a team of oxen at the very least or an earth elemental to move Ambassador Natale and dismissed him by promising to give him an answer in the morning.

Most of her companions were already seated and waiting, some more patiently than others, and Sir Nevalle had arrived as well, seated between Torio Claven and Lieutenant Kana. Dee requested that as much of the three courses be brought in as were ready so there would be a minimum of interruptions. The others looked from her face to Casavir's, Sand's, and Jerro's trying to read something there, but the three of them deferred to Dee to explain. They passed the serving dishes around the table while Dee related Sydney Natale's offer.

Qara looked bored, toying with her food and only half listening until Dee caught her interest by naming her. She startled and blushed. "What? Why me? I'm not ready to set out on another mission. We just got back."

Dee managed to eat a few bites of fish before her outburst ended. She met the girl's eyes and said calmly, "I was hopin' you could tell us that, Qara. One thing I can think of is they want to recruit you." Sand shuddered at the thought and whispered to Neeshka, "Recruit her? Only if they have completely taken leave of their senses." Neeshka stifled a giggle and elbowed him lightly in the ribs. Dee added, "There is another possibility. Does your father have enemies there? The other thing that occurs to me that mayhap they want to get to him through you."

Sir Nevalle had listened quietly, but his handsome face darkened as he did. Dee thought he looked like he was about to explode, and finally he couldn't restrain himself any longer. He blurted out, "Why was this offer not made to Lord Nasher through proper diplomatic channels? You know as well as I do this is an affront to Lord Nasher. Why make an alliance with Luskan at all?"

Dee sighed loudly and tried to reassure him. "Calm down, Nevalle. I asked him that, and he said she was trying to avoid drawing attention to herself. This offer is from her, not Luskan. It could be that the rest of the Hosttower doesn't want anyone aiding Neverwinter."

Casavir added, "That is correct, and he assured us the ambassador intended no insult and promised no treachery." However, Casavir didn't look as if he believed a word of it.

Zhjaeve was eating some of her first crop of turnips, smothered in melted cheese. Unlike Qara, she had said nothing about herself being singled out until now, when she said simply, "Captain, know that I have been thinking while you spoke, and I can see no good reason for the presence of we three alone."

Dee nodded with a fork halfway to her mouth. "I can't either, truth be told. The more I think about it, the more it treacherous it looks."

Khelgar grumbled, "Aye, looks like treachery to me as well. Only thing you can count on with Luskans is they'll be Luskans. They don't know the meaning of honor. I think they still want revenge for your acquittal, though I don't see where the other lasses figure in."

Torio Claven, seated next to Sir Nevalle, shot Khelgar a poisonous look, but after a moment she said softly, "I have to agree. Sidney Natale is nothing if not ambitious, as would be expected of a Hosttower mage of her power. No, she's angling for something, but what exactly escapes me."

They discussed the offer while they ate, and they came to a consensus that as much as they hated to admit it, if anyone knew a way to defeat the King of Shadows, it would be the Hosttower. Sand warned that they were "masters of deception and assassination," and Torio Claven readily agreed. Both backed up their opinions with examples. Sand hadn't known Sydney Natale during his time in Luskan other than by reputation as someone to avoid. Ammon Jerro vaguely remembered her as a young, ambitious mage while he studied there. Torio Claven knew for certain though that Sydney Natale hated Black Garius. She related a juicy morsel of gossip that was whispered about Luskan that her former master had a torrid affair with Sydney Natale when they were both apprentices that had ended badly, resulting in some damage to the third tower.

They debated whether they should accept the offer into the evening until the cook's assistant knocked on the door to announce the dessert course. The servers brought a platter with slices of fragrant lemon sponge cake and bowls of fresh berries with cream and were met with stony silence as everyone in the room watched them and waited for them to leave. They departed hastily as soon as they had picked up the used dishes, and Kana stood and looked out the door to make sure they had gone and weren't listening outside.

Ammon Jerro waved off the offered dessert impatiently and insisted they couldn't afford to turn down any help, even if it meant making an alliance with the Hosttower. He growled, "This is simply too important, and time is too short." He sat back with his arms folded across his chest daring anyone to argue with him.

Casavir and Nevalle both looked as if they were going to take the challenge when Dee head them off by agreeing with the warlock. "Ammon's right, we can't afford to turn down help, no matter what Sydney Natale's real motive is, though I wish she didn't feel the need for these games. What's wrong with them that they can't see the threat?"

Qara huffed, "Why is it so hard to believe that the Hosttower wants to recruit me?" She torched a piece of sponge cake to emphasize her displeasure.

"'Tis entirely possible, Qara," Dee replied tiredly. "But again, then why Zhjaeve, and why just us three? Why not recruit you directly? 'Tis up to you and Zhjaeve to decide if you want to meet her, though we will not receive the true names scroll if we don't all show up, so there's no point in going if you don't both agree. I hate to pressure you, but there it is."

Qara snorted in reply, while Zhjaeve said softly, "Know that I have already pledged my life to you, Kalach-cha. I will go."

Bishop said with a sneer, "Yeah, typical. Walk into the Luskan trap if you want to like good little sheep to the slaughter. But I say we follow behind you. You gave your word that it would be just the three of you, but the rest of us didn't, and who's going to know?"

Dee squeezed Casavir's hand under the table as she felt him tense and turned to face the ranger. "I think that was implied, Bish. I also wouldn't be surprised if she's having us watched. I had a funny feeling when we rode into the Keep today, like I could feel magical energy passing over me. The scar on my chest hurt too, and now it makes sense. I'm afraid that if her people spot you, she might go back on the offer."

Elanee looked worried. "True, but I could follow you in bird form so I wouldn't likely be noticed. What's one more crow among a flock? I could simply ask the animals which way you went. I could then return for help if things go badly. Cillian could follow your scent too. Unless she teleports you away, he should be able to find you."

Sand arched a delicate eyebrow. "I wouldn't put it past them at all to be watching you, dear girl, nor do I doubt that her agents are protected from scrying. I would advise you keep your word. However, I would advise you, Zhjaeve, to choose your spells carefully, and Qara, contain your excitement and try to get enough rest tonight. I also don't need to tell you that you should load yourselves with potions. Pity that we've just returned and have used most of what we set out with, but Brother Ivarr most likely has replenished his stock. I'll prepare a few scrolls and go through our wands tonight as well, though I don't know if you'll have time to read them in the heat of battle if it comes to that."

Neeshka had forgotten all about her plans to spend the evening counting then rolling around in her loot. Her concern for her friend was betrayed by a quaver in her voice and the agitation in her tail. "If you have to go... Sand, if you have anything that will reveal invisible assassins...That's probably how they'll attack." Sand reached over and patted her shoulder.

Grobnar had finished his dessert, Ammon Jerro's, and half of Elanee's too. "I could sing a song of inspiration or cast some protective spells before you go, but I wouldn't be at all surprised if the location is just far enough away that they will expire before you arrive. Too bad that you can't take the construct, or that there isn't time to ask for help from the Wendersnaven." Dee met the gnome's eyes as Bishop directed a filthy curse at him that caused Casavir, Khelgar, and Sir Nevalle all to admonish him, but Grobnar just smiled peacefully.

Dee and Casavir looked into each other's eyes, and he smiled wanly and took her hand to kiss it. "I feel useless not being able to fight by your side if it comes to that. All I have to offer you then is my prayers, my lady."

She whispered, "That will be more than enough, love. That, and helping me tonight to take my mind off tomorrow." She said to the others, "I think we're finished here." She stood and picked up her untouched dessert then handed Casavir his. He stood beside her and took her empty hand. "Let's go have these in our chamber. Thank you all, and Kana, send my thanks to the cook and send my apologies for our rudeness, and send word to Kraven, I mean Kralever, that we will be ready by highsun. But I don't plan to arise until I'm good and ready and Qara and Zhjaeve are ready too."

Qara replied a bit too loudly, "Oh I'll be ready, and I'll be ready to blast that cow to the hells if she tries anything." But she considered as she said this whether she could fit all of her possessions into her travel bag in case she _was_ offered a place by Sydney Natale. It made perfect sense to her. Luskan was at war, after all, and they could use a sorceress as powerful as she had become.

Ammon Jerro's gravelly voice rang out as Dee and Casavir were almost to the door. "I suggest you don't send word that you agree to the meeting until right before highsun. You might as well have a time advantage, though I suspect they've prepared their trap if they are planning to betray you."

Dee wrapped an arm around Casavir's waist. "I know I would have." That was the signal for everyone to leave and think about what they could do to prepare them for any possibility, everyone except for Bishop, who made sure he wasn't followed then went to inform Black Garius about the new turn of events.

Dee knelt beside a smoking corpse grimly cleaning her blades while Cillian licked a bloody gash on his side and licked his claws beside her. Zhjaeve was nearby, kneeling next to a prone Luskan who had turned against his mistress at the last moment and joined their side (at a price, of course), gently coaxing him to drink a healing potion. Dee lay her hands on Cillian and asked for Meilikki's grace to heal her loyal companion, whom she had summoned the second they walked around a copse of trees and she realized that the place was closed in on all sides, cutting them off from easy escape. A perfect place for an ambush. Cillian had laid low in the trees out of sight, where he reported he could smell a pair of the two-leggeds though he couldn't see them. Not that lack of vision prevented him from mauling the surprised assassins as he smelled their steel when they drew their blades and moved to attack.

Qara sat shivering despite the afternoon heat, rocking with her knees drawn up to her chest next to Sydney Natale's corpse on what had been a grassy field and was now blackened earth. Dee looked around at the devastation as she walked over to the girl, and Zhjaeve and the Luskan followed. Dee squatted painfully in the grass beside her and said softly, "By rights, her things are yours as payment for her treachery. Her robe escaped damage, and even I can feel the enchantments woven into it, as well as the ring." Dee reached over and pulled the ring off the corpse and offered it to Qara.

Qara blinked twice before she realized what Dee said and replied with utter disgust, "I don't want that ugly old cow's things."

Dee shrugged and replied, "Serve yourself, but likely the robe, like the ring, 'tis enchanted to fit the shape of the wearer. If nothing else, sell the robe to Deekin. When we return I'll have Sir Nevalle send word to Neverwinter to have Jochris arrested. I...am sorry, though if it's any consolation, she did call you a treasure and said she wished she could take you back with her." She pulled out a scroll Sand had readied. As he suspected, she hadn't had time to read more than one, a spider skin spell, trusting her swords instead. She gasped loudly and bit her lip as Zhjaeve knelt beside her and examined one of the wounds in her back she received from the Luskan assassins. Luckily for her the new chain mail deflected one of the blows, which had been aimed at her kidneys. She turned her head to the Githzerai and said, "Don't worry about me, I can feel my ring working. I'll be up to the walk back before long."

Dee glanced at the Luskan, who was looking at his former employer's corpse with undisguised contempt as he casually stripped off the robe and lay it down beside Qara, who absently rolled it up and put it on her lap. "Jalboun, was it? I'm gonna use this scroll to summon an earth elemental to bury what's left of them. I've got enough trouble with Luskan as it is without sending their ambassador home in a box, so feel free to take what you want, and then help me haul them over yonder."

He gave her an appraising look, still trying to decide if he could trust her. Dee knew he'd be back in Luskan within the tenday, and within the month most likely broke again and selling his swords to someone like Sydney Natale or worse. She wondered if he was like Lorne, making the wrong choices until he had nowhere else to go, or if he was a native Luskan who had known few choices in his life. He certainly had enough scars, including a few long ones marring what had been a handsome face, to show that his life had been a difficult one. But he didn't bear the tattoos of an assassins' guild like Lorne had. She stood and said, "I promised you twice what she was paying you, and you'll get it as soon as we get back to my Keep."

"Sure thing, Captain." He stood as well. "They call me Jalboun of the Two Blades, well, because I fight with two blades. I don't have another name." He shrugged at her. He still had a wary, dangerous look in his eyes, like a wild animal cornered. "I didn't figure you carried that much coin on you, but I'd settle for the pickings from the corpses."

She spoke softly, using her ranger skill to calm a wild animal. "You're gonna have to find another employer if you go back to Luskan, Jalboun. Mayhap someone worse than the former ambassador. But if you're not inclined to go back there, I was thinkin' I could use you at the Keep, if you want to sign on as one of my sergeants." She offered him her hand.

He gaped in surprise but immediately was on his guard again. "Not that I don't trust you, but some people might have me arrested as soon as I set foot there too despite all their pretty promises."

Dee smiled at him and said gently, "That's no doubt true of Luskans, but you'll find us different. I will work to earn your trust. For now I swear by Meilikki and by Tyr I plan no treachery. Besides, there aren't many at the Keep who fight with the two weapon style like I do, so you'll make a good sparring partner. What do you say?"

He had to admit she was right. He was smart enough to know that some in the Hosttower would blame him for not protecting his former employer, and he didn't have enough clout in the city anymore to avoid being sentenced to low justice to entertain the mob. In reality, the best he could hope for was being sent to the front lines as fodder for the war effort. He gingerly took her hand. "You have a deal, captain. Let's get this lot buried before they start to stink."


	35. Tying up Loose Ends

Usual disclaimer and notes: First of all, thanks to Ansenor, whose comment in a review and subsequent email gave me the idea for the start of this chapter.

Second, the characters belong to a whole lot of other people and not to me except the occasional NPC and a bear and paladin lovin' ranger.

Chapter 35 Tying up Lose Ends

The air in the windowless room was heavy with the muggy afternoon heat. Dee squirmed and tried to make herself comfortable in the too-small chair and accepted the goblet offered to her by the elderly dwarven priest, whose steel blue eyes bored into hers as he waited for her to go on. "Tell you about my dreams? Let's see...This dream I had last night was about something that happened when I couldn't have been more than four or five. We had a lot of rain and even snow that winter and spring, and the sleepy little river which ran past our home into the Mere was unusually turgid and threatened to come over its banks."

She sat back and ran her hand through her hair. The portly cleric leaned over and patted her knee gently and urged her on. "Let's see...My foster father was packing in case we had to move to higher ground, and I guess he hadn't realized I was tall enough to reach the latch on the door...which I wasn't." She screwed up her face in concentration. "I remember standing on something. An empty bucket turned over, that was it! I just wanted to see the river." She paused and quaffed the goblet of the nasty viscous liquor that the priest had given her and nearly choked.

He moved to her side with amazing speed and smacked her hard a few times on the back as she coughed and sputtered. "Here, have some water to wash it down, Captain. 'Tis an acquired taste, but you'll find it's very beneficial for the digestion," he said helpfully. "Go on when you're ready."

She drained the goblet of water then sat back and caught her breath and grinned at him. "Dwarven recipe? Don't know if I'll live long enough to acquire a taste to that, Brother." She set the goblet back on his desk and continued. "Anyway, I opened the door and was outside in a heartbeat, and I remember bending down to see something in the water when I must have leaned forward too far and fell in. I screamed as I fell, but then I had water in my mouth. They had taught me to swim in that river before I could even walk, but there was no way I could swim my way out of that, and the water was freesing too...Daeghun had taught me to draw my knees up to my chest and wrap my arms around them so I could bob in the water if I was ever in trouble, but I lost sight of the house. I thought I was done for and that I'd be with my mother soon. I think I even called out to her."

"Go on, child, I mean _Captain_. Do you remember how you got to shore?," he asked, leaning forward eagerly in his seat as he waited for her to go on.

Dee fought the urge to hide her face in her hands. "I got caught up in a tree that was floating in the river, but I was too exhausted to do much but cling to a branch. It got snagged on something on shore right away, but the water was swirling around me and pulling at me. I lost a shoe and some of my clothes. I used what strength I had left to yell for Daeghun to help me. And then all I remember was something big and brown hovering over me on the trunk of the tree. I remember seeing sharp teeth, but its soft brown eyes were very gentle, and it took my smock in its mouth and pulled me up then backed down the trunk to the safety of the shore. And that's when the dream started, but I remembered the rest of it when I woke up."

"An animal rescued you?" He refilled his goblet and offered her a refill as well.

She considered then took the jug of water and filled it half full then passed it to him to fill with his liquor. "Diluted, sure. I don't think humans can take it full strength, Brother." She sighed and leaned back. "Gods, I had forgotten all about this. Mayhap I blocked it out, like I blocked out the battle that killed my mother."

He filled her goblet nearly to the top again. "Yes, yes. Entirely possible, but then again you were quite young when you lost her, weren't you? Something has triggered the memory which has surfaced in your dream. But what happened? Was the animal by any chance a bear?"

She nodded at him. "Yeah, I thought so at first, and I didn't even care if it ate me as long as it was fast. I was shiverin' so hard I think some of my teeth shook loose. But it wrapped itself around me, letting its body warm me, and I snuggled closer to its rough earthy fur. In the dream I saw someone in the distance, a girl from the look of her, and a ruby-throated swamp raven flew down to the bear and paused like they were talking, then it flew off."

"You said you only thought it was a bear?" The priest had forgotten to drink, caught up as he was in the story.

Dee took another drink before she continued, feeling the strange liquor burning and tingling down to her toes. "I thought it was. The bear stood up off me and roared as Daeghun ran into the clearing looking as frantic as I've ever seen him look. They talked in elvish as Daeghun snatched me up and wrapped his cloak around me."

The priest interrupted her and looked skeptical. "_They_ talked? You're not telling me the bear spoke elvish? Are you certain that wasn't part of the dream as well and not a memory?"

She finished her drink and set the goblet down on the desk. "Like I said, it wasn't a bear. When I peeked out from Daeghun's cloak, instead of a bear I saw another elf dressed in a simple brown robe. He was a druid, Elanee's mentor, Naeven...hmm, I wonder now if the young woman I saw in the dream wasn't Elanee. That's the reason for this dream, I think. I had forgotten all about it until I saw him when we went to find Elanee's Circle, and even then, even seeing him again I didn't remember until _after_ the dream."

The priest offered her a biscuit from a tray on his desk, which she declined with a polite shake of her head. "Are you sure? They have delicious creamy chocolate centers. Now Naeven was the one you told us about who hadn't fallen under the sway of the King of Shadows, correct? And you've been reunited with your father recently as well. Reuniting with the two of them might have stirred up your memories."

A shadow of a frown crossed her face as she thought about Daeghun. "My foster father. Yes, he arrived to tell us that while he was exploring the Mere to discover the extent of the King of Shadow's reach and spreading the word to evacuate to other Mere villages, he found evidence that some of Elanee's circle survived." She remembered back to that day a few days after Sydney Natale's attempted ambush when she had finally made time to talk with Bevil alone. It took time, but he confessed to her what had happened to him, how the Githyanki had tortured him and forced him to tell them where she was going with the shard. She hugged him as he sobbed his shame, and she whispered that she forgave him and assured him that anyone would have told them whatever they wanted to hear whether true or not under torture, herself included. She left him once he had composed himself, but not before giving him another fierce hug and admonishing him not to hold things like that in, but rather to talk to someone, like a priest, or one of his fellow sergeants. Katriona, for example. He promised he would, and Dee coerced a further promise that he would talk to Katriona that evening when she was back from patrol.

As she was walking away from the barracks feeling guilty and angry for what Bevil had been put through because of her, she thought she heard Daeghun's voice calling her name. She froze in her tracks, blinked and stared in the direction of the voice. With her spectacles she could make out his familiar shape even from across the village. She shouted "Father!," and sprinted to him across the village, putting half a dozen Greycloaks on alert. But she pulled up short, blushing and feeling foolish because of the sudden rush of emotions, but more foolish because he had not run to meet her as well. He simply stood there. Her heart told her to throw her arms around him, but as he had made no move, instead she took his hand in hers. "Father, you're safe! It's so good to see you! I've kept you in my prayers..."

But he cut her off with a brusque, "We will have time for a reunion later, Dierdre. I came to speak with you and your druid companion. What I've learned concerns both of you."

Dee had blurted out, "You've come to see _her_?," and she saw a momentary flash of pain in his eyes at the implied, "and not me?" However, she recovered quickly once he told her what he had learned, becoming the Knight Captain again, sending a Greycloak to bring word to her companions, sending another for Elanee, nodding at Bishop as he helpfully offered to scout ahead. But she told Casavir the day they returned when they were in the sanctuary of their chamber that it still stung, even as she acknowledged how foolish that feeling was.

And it wasn't as if Daeghun had come here to see Elanee, after all. But would she have a right to feel hurt if he had? They were both wood elves, and they both loved the swamp and revered nature and Silvanus, the god of nature too. She considered how hard it had been for Daeghun to rarely be able to speak his own language. Dee had to admit he had much more in common with Elanee than with the human woman he had raised. It also made sense that many of Elanee's Circle wouldn't listen to Daeghun and could only be persuaded to join the fight or to give up their home in the Mere by one of their own. And as it turned out, he was right. Even Elanee was unable to break through the King of Shadow's influence over the Circle of the Mere. Elanee had been very subdued since they returned, keeping to herself and mourning quietly, and Dee had spoken little with Daeghun either, though he had told her one evening she had come far from the wild girl he had raised. That was high praise coming from him.

The priest steepled his fingers under his chin in contemplation and studied her as the Knight Captain grew quiet, lost in thought, twirling a strand of hair absently. He waited for several minutes for her to continue before he cleared his throat loudly and snapped her out of her reverie. "I suspect you're right and that's what triggered the memory. Such a terrifying memory buried so deeply might only come to the surface in a dream. And you've also said that time seems to be moving very quickly since you returned with the _True Names_ scrolls. It could be that you feel helpless, as if you're caught in that raging river again and at the mercy of fate."

Dee sighed as she thought about it, ran her fingers through her hair and pushed it off her face. "Well, time _is_ moving very quickly, at least from my perspective. I don't know where this summer has even gone, and 'tis nearly my birthday again. I have to wonder if I'll see two-and-twenty. We've run off on one mission after another, and Kana's had to run the Keep herself. I've hardly touched my forge...I gave it over to the Ironfists use to repair their weapons and make some for the Lizardmen."

She saw something in his eyes and gave him a stern look that she had cultivated as the Knight Captain. "And don't start on how I shouldn't be equipping them with weapons they could later use against us. I get enough of that from Nevalle. I won't have them thought of as fodder." The priest frowned at the knight's name as if he had tasted something sour. "The Ironfists are happy to step aside and let me pound away at whatever they're workin' on when I have the time. I just thank the gods that the true names have worked so far. The rest of us have to keep Zhjaeve and Jerro standing until they finish reciting the incantation, but at least now we have real hope that we can overcome the power of the King of Shadows."

The priest had looked thoroughly disgusted at hearing the name of the former Luskan ambassador, the sort of look one would have after stepping in something nasty. "I still am curious whether Sydney Natale acted alone or at Luskan's behest. Not offering assistance to Neverwinter despite the past was incredibly short-sighted and self-serving."

Dee shrugged. "I've thought a lot about what she said that day. I suspect she planned to keep the knowledge to herself and only use the scrolls if and when the King of Shadows threatened Luskan...to gain power for herself by saving her city. She must have wanted to force Zhjaeve to go with her because she couldn't read the scroll herself but didn't want to let anyone else in the Hosttower know that. But you're right, it's a very short-sighted way to think, and look where it got her."

The priest nodded. "Indeed. And speaking of dreadful beasts, you have fought and killed two more dragons. That's something most adventurers never do in their entire lives. "

"Yes, two more dragons," she muttered tersely, looking at the floor. She hadn't felt the desire to ride triumphantly into the Keep when they returned that time. She merely gave Kana the location so their hides could be salvaged (she was determined to get Casavir a suit of dragon hide armor). She was tired to her bones and to her soul from the killing and beginning to show it. She leaned forward and explained as if she thought she had to justify herself to the priest. "We didn't set out to fight them, though I know it must look to some like we were off seeking glory. Ammon Jerro sent us to find Nolaloth, reasoning that with his centuries of knowledge, if anyone knew how to reforge the sword, it would be he. Should have known when he didn't want to go with us he hadn't dealt honorably with the creature."

"And I understand you're setting out tomorrow to travel to your home village through the claimed lands to try to reforge the Sword of Gith based on the information the dragon gave you."

Dee answered with an annoyed sigh. "Yes, we're going to teleport to the Arvahn valley then taking an Ilfarn song portal, which Zhjaeve thinks should get us to the ruins right outside the village. I really hate teleporting...it makes me feel disoriented, and so many things could go wrong, but we don't have the time to travel there by land. Jerro and Zhjaeve are both going in case we run into more shadow reavers." Dee had put an end to the bickering over which of them was going to have possession of the scrolls by having Aldanon make another copy, and that way if one was injured or lost concentration, the other could continue reciting the words.

She scowled thinking about Jerro. Despite her intentions that he remain a pariah, he was becoming a valuable member of their party, at least to her. Casavir had little more use for him than he did for Bishop, but he kept his reservations to himself most of the time. While she had refused Jerro's offer to create a charm to allow them to bargain with Mephasm, she found herself turning to him for advice. Jerro had even asked her to tell him about Shandra one day in the darkness by the summoning circle, where he spent much of his time. But forgiveness was hard to give when he didn't particularly care if she gave it or feel he needed it.

The priest coughed gently and she blinked and returned her attention to him. "Noaloth didn't exactly tell us how to reforge it, only that we had to go to where it was broken and that it would take an act of will on my part to do it. He only asked that we destroy his heart so he could pass on to wherever dragons go in the afterlife. But the black dragons who were feeding off his power weren't keen on the idea and attacked us. It may look like we were seeking glory, but we did a good thing."

He bent down and opened a dumbwaiter set into the wall near the floor that allowed a waft of cool air from the lower levels to enter the room. "Indeed Captain, freeing the creature from its bondage, as well as ridding the sword coast of two more evil dragons _was_ a good thing. But do you understand what he meant by requiring an act of your will to bring the shards together?"

She snapped, "Do you think the shards control me too? I'd sure like to know who started that rumor. It's not true!" But there was no point in taking it out on the priest. "People thought was being paranoid when I said I felt like I was bein' scryed, but Sydney Natale _was_ watching me. And I still feel it! We freed those Luskans on the mountain, and they admitted they're watching the King of Shadow's progress, so is it so hard to believe they're watching us too?" She crossed her arms over her chest and huffed as the priest sat there chewing thoughtfully and watching her. But after a few minutes of fuming she sighed and added softly, "I don't know, I don't _think_ the one inside me controls me, but I admit sometimes I lay the shards out and look at them and try to put them together. But that's not the same thing, is it?" He could see by the look of desperation on her face that she herself had wondered about whether the rumor was true.

The priest smiled benignly as she grew silent again. He stretched his arms over his head and popped his back with a grunt and finally asked nonchalantly, "What are you afraid of, Captain, besides traveling so far into the claimed lands? Are you afraid that you have no control over your destiny and you're going have to give your life for this cause?"

She was taken aback by the bluntness of the question. She shook her head and replied, "Well wouldn't you be scared if you were me? I think I'd be insane if I wasn't scared shiteless, Brother." She threw her hands up. "I never asked for this!" She slumped in her seat and met his eyes. "But...someone has to do it. I've come to accept that if this is my destiny, I'm never gonna see the world or do any of the things I planned. Besides, I keep telling myself there's worse ways to go. There was that lad in Neverwinter last winter who fell into the sewer and drowned. Now _that's_ a horrible way to go. And I could have drowned in the river all those years ago. I could have died with my mother if the shard had penetrated any deeper."

She thought back to the question Naeven asked her before they left him about why she was engaged in this battle. She had been taken aback then too and had muttered "Because it's my destiny," though she knew she sounded like she wasn't convinced. She took another drink before she continued, her voice cracking and a few tears rolling down her cheeks, "I think I've accepted it. The part that bothers me most though isn't losing _my_ life, but I couldn't bear to lose Cas...or Neesh or Sand or Khel or my other companions, even the ones that aren't as dear to me as Cas is. If there was any way to go on alone, I would. I don't know how I could go on if I lost them but I was still here."

At that moment something Daeghun had said about losing his companions finally weighing him down flashed through her mind, and a fierce feeling of sympathy and love for him welled up in her chest. The few tears became a torrent that she tried to stop without much success. She thought, "Oh father, forgive me for being so blind to your pain. Of course you're distant. You're faced with losing me too, one way or another."

He finished his biscuit as he listened then wiped his chocolate stained fingers on a tea towel and watched her wipe at her eyes. He fished a handkerchief out of his desk drawer and handed it to her. "Yes, let it out. And that brings us back to your other dreams, the one you came here to talk with me about. Tell me about the one with the falling rocks. You've had that dream many times I understand." He picked up another biscuit and waited for her to reply.

She dried her tears and took another drink then let him refill her goblet before she continued after he smiled at her until she became uncomfortable. She sighed and said, "That one. I wouldn't say many, it's more like several. It's always the same. We're running and everything is falling apart around us. We're dodging big slabs of stone. It feels like what should be a moment of triumph is shattered, and that's when I wake up. And a few nights ago I had it again, but it was different this time.

"Different in what way, Captain? Tell me everything you remember."

"We were running, and I turned back and was trying to reach Cas. I could see his face and he shouted at me to go on, but then stretched from a doorway to reach me as I reached for him...Our fingers just touched, and I whispered something to him and he nodded as I curled my fingers around his. He smiled at me and whispered something, but then I could see a look of fear on his face, as if he could see something behind me, and then someone was grabbing me and tearing me away from him. I woke up screaming and woke Cas up too. I guess that's why he wanted me to talk to you. Mayhap he thinks I'm losin' my mind too." She suppressed another sob and wiped at her eyes again, yet feeling oddly relieved at getting it off her chest. In fact, Casavir had insisted she talk with his priest and hadn't let the matter rest until he knew she had found time for an appointment. Quiet as he was, she was learning Casavir could also be tenacious.

The priest patted her knee again and offered her another handkerchief from the stack in his drawer. "You can toss those in the basket. Casavir's right to be concerned about you, Captain. He's of an opinion that at least some of your dreams have come to pass, though he didn't elaborate other than to blush profoundly, so...I can imagine their nature. Still, it's not unusual for healthy young people to have erotic dreams, those who are celibate, and especially those who aren't. Perhaps it only seemed as if one had come to pass during a...romantic encounter?"

She shook her head adamantly. "No. It's more than just an erotic dream. It's like that strange feeling that you've been somewhere before, but you haven't. Before Cas and I were...lovers, I had dreams about us, and specific details in those dreams have come to pass, though I didn't realize it until after the fact." She blushed scarlet, but since the priest was so inquisitive, she related a few examples until he was blushing as deeply as she was. "Then a few nights ago we went out, just the two of us, to the festhall for dinner in one of the private rooms. Nevalle said we needed a break from our duties, at least for an evening, and he had made the arrangements."

The priest frowned disapprovingly though he tried to hide it. "Casavir and Nevalle are much friendlier these days."

Sir Nevalle in fact had decided that as there wasn't anyone else of his station at the Keep, that he should take his tall, dark, handsome, but socially awkward cousin under his wing, and so he and Casavir had formed an awkward friendship. She shrugged off the priest's disapproval. "Sure Nevalle can be a bit of a snob, but he's alright. He even approves of me, though he teases me and calls me his rustic cousin. Anyway, we took the room for the night. It was very pretty, all done up in shades of red. There was a small table set for two with candles and a big vase of roses on it, and a bed with red satin sheets and more rose petals sprinkled across it. And the room was decorated with these pictures hung on every wall that the widow got from somewhere in the east judging by the faces, showing couples in..._unusual_ positions...things I sure never imagined, and Cas either. Anyway, we couldn't help but look at them while we ate and after we finished, we decided to try something new."

What really surprised her was that it had been Casavir's idea. He blushed furiously and hesitated when they first entered the room, but she took his hand and squeezed it while nuzzling his cheek in a way he loved. Seeing that she wasn't embarrassed he relaxed too while they ate, eventually joking with her about the impossibility of some of the positions, but how some of them had definite possibilities. He pointed to one that had particularly intrigued him, and he slipped his arm around her narrow waist, drew her close, and whispered, "I would like us to try that...if you don't mind?" She didn't mind. They skipped dessert. What triggered her memory was when he murmured that he was glad she was so flexible but the satin sheets were so slippery he was afraid they would fall off the bed. She gasped and broke away, and Casavir broke away immediately, concerned that he had hurt her. She told him about the dream. She explained "You see, it was the specific words and the red sheets that I remembered from the dream, not to mention the..."

The priest coughed and interrupted. "Yes, I see your point. However, did you ever have dreams of Casavir before you met him? To me that would be the true test."

She poured herself another goblet and leaned back, draping her other arm over the back of the chair. "This has to be the last one, Brother. I'm feeling it, and they're never gonna believe I got drunk with the priest. But to answer your question, yes, I think Imighthave dreamed about those beautiful blue eyes. I'll have to think about it though I'll probably end up talking myself into it. The first dream I do remember was when he was still only a good friend and I had no idea I had feelings like _that_ for him. For so long he was simply one of my companions, and I always trusted he had my back, but frankly, I wondered more than once whose job it was at the temple to shove a stick up paladins' backsides."

He chuckled, leaned close and whispered, "It's the Prior's job. Go on. Tell me what changed."

She closed her eyes and smiled thinking about it. "Cas grew on me slowly. During my trial I came to understand how good a friend to me he really was, much more than I had ever been to him, and I was ashamed and resolved to change that. And afterwards I saw how kind and gentle and quietly generous he was, and my feelings began to alter, until I discovered one day that they had become the very opposite of what they were when he first joined us. So I had to let him know. You know how he is. He probably still wouldn't have worked up the nerve." She looked in his eyes and sighed. "And Brother, I've had such happy dreams about our future, dreams about us with a home and a family, that it saddened me to wake up."

He smiled kindly and patted her knee again. "I can see you care for him deeply. Bear in mind that the future can change, Captain, based on our choices in life. You've seen that your dreams can change. If the gods are speaking to you through them, surely seeing images of a happy life is a sign you're not meant to end your life under a pile of rocks. I would take that dream as a warning to take precautions. For now I advise you to continue to seek guidance from our Lord."

She fumbled with a pouch at her belt and drew a scroll out of it. "I do, Brother, and I try to have faith that our lives will get a whole lot more boring after this. But I also have to be ready in case..." She frowned, drifted off and handed the priest the scroll. "'Tis my will. Nevalle suggested while he was showing me sketches he made for my wedding gown that I update mine as he had done, and he was beside himself when I told him I didn't even have one. Threw a hissy fit about my bein' irresponsible. It never even occurred to me. But he's right, I'm a wealthy woman, and I've got fourteen wards now..."

She put her face in her hands again. "Gods, Brother, how did I ever become a guardian for fourteen orphans? I want to see to their education and see that their apprenticeships are paid for, though Wolf's near a man and comes of age on his next birthday. I already gave my harvest cloak, a long sword, and one of Shandra's Duskwood bows to him, and I'm gonna see if Daeghun agrees he's got the stuff to be a ranger."

The priest nodded. "You'll be happy to hear then that young Deke told me after school yesterday he has an interest in joining the church, and I agreed he was a capable lad, so that's one less you have to worry about."

She raised an eyebrow while she poured out the rest of the bottle into her goblet. "Deke a priest? I can see that. I'll pay for his schoolin' at the temple college then. I've apprenticed two of 'em to Jacoby and Edario, two to my master of horse, and I've left them all a little something when their apprenticeship ends. The Widow Jons told me Sela talked to her about workin' at the festhall, startin' out as a maid after school, but also learning...the craft. She's only thirteen...But the Widow says she thinks she's called to the silk world, and she swore by Sharess the girl won't receive customers until she's of age." Dee shrugged and shook her head. "'Tis not a life I would choose...but then I can't imagine bein' with a man I wasn't attracted to. Let's see...Nevalle's quite taken with little Cassia and wants to make her his ward. I agreed, it's a better life for her than training to be a lady's maid, but I left her something too. All my other bequests are for my companions and the house staff."

He read it over and let her make her changes then signed it after she did and sanded the signatures. "I'll put this in the temple vault. As a precaution, one of the acolytes will make a copy to send to the temple in Neverwinter."

She next handed him over a pouch of gold and gems. "This'll pay for resurrection spells for any of my companions who..." He nodded grimly and took the pouch as she swallowed hard and stood, stumbling just a bit. "All righty then. I'll take my leave, Brother. I'll say one thing for that brew of yours. It'll make court much more interesting."

He chuckled and walked her to the door. "I am available anytime you feel a need to talk, Captain. Don't hold these things inside you." He walked her to the main door of the temple and watched her as she ambled off, the bear and the paladin waiting anxiously outside for her and coming to join her.

Dee took a deep breath of freedom once she stepped outside the temple into the cloudy afternoon. She ruffled Cillian's fur then gave Casavir a fond kiss. "Well that's done. Your turn now, love. Don't worry though, I finished the whole bottle of that nasty stuff for you. Didn't leave a drop." She winked and gave him another kiss.

Casavir broke away reluctantly and suppressed a sigh. "So you did. Very well, I'll see you at supper tonight." He gave her a last longing look then opened the door and walked into the cool darkness of the temple.

Dee ruffled Cillian's fur again, and the bear looked at her expectantly. "Come on, my love. Let's go find my father."

Casavir faced the altar and made the sign of Tyr as the door closed behind him. He entered the door that led to a narrow hallway where the temple offices were. He was met by a thin, dark haired acolyte seated at a desk outside Brother Ivarr's office. The acolyte looked up at him and said just above a whisper, "Brother Ivarr requests that you wait while he finishes some paperwork."

Casavir wasn't sure if he should feel relieved that his interrogation was put on hold or dismayed that he would have to wait longer. "Of Course, Brother Farrin. I shall be in the meditation chamber until he is ready for me." He bowed curtly and turned on his heel.

Brother Ivarr was just finishing a letter to Lord Nasher, who had sent word through one of his most trusted advisors to charge the priest with determining whether Lady Farlong was becoming too ambitious and by implication, becoming a threat to Neverwinter (and written between the implied lines, to Nasher himself). Sir Nevalle had heard the rumor and dutifully reported it, though he told Lord Nasher he didn't believe a word of it. Thus Lord Nasher was forced to rely upon his second most trusted advisor to send the letter to the priest with orders to observe her and report his findings. Brother Ivarr had already written of what he had observed over the previous tendays.

He finished by writing in summary, "_Contrary to the rumors, Lady Farlong is loyal to Neverwinter and to you to a fault. She has resigned herself to laying down her life in Neverwinter's service, and should she survive, she doesn't have any ambition that I can detect other than marrying her betrothed and becoming a happy mother. However, I am more concerned with the source of this and other rumors circulating around the Keep. It is clear to me that some agent of the enemy is trying to undermine morale here, which had been very high. I will seek our Lord in prayer on the matter and speak with Lady Farlong's chief of security Neeshka privately about my concerns as she isn't accompanying them to the ruins of West Harbor. Yours in Service, I remain your humble servant."_

He signed his name with a flourish and scattered sand on the paper then shook it off and folded and sealed it. He waddled over to the door and poked his head out. "Farrin, I have a missive which must be sent to Neverwinter with today's dispatches. See it is sent with the monks, then show Casavir in."

Dee followed Daeghun's tracks and Cillian's nose and found her father in the woods just outside of the Keep where he was gathering suitable branches to craft into arrows. When she was still across a clearing she made the low croaking call of the ruby-throated swamp raven. He looked around and seemed alarmed momentarily then smiled tightly at her. "Well met, Dierdre. I could hear someone coming. You must not forget your training, and it's also not wise for you to come out here alone."

She shrugged and was tempted to point out her drunken state but thought better of it as that would only prove his point. "Yeah, but Cill's with me and had no trouble following your scent, and for that matter, I found your trail easily enough. How are you, father?"

His nostrils flared as he caught the scent of the liquor on her breath. "Is something troubling you, Dierdre?"

Standing there facing him she began to feel her resolve melt like butter left in the sun, so she lied to avoid embarrassing them both with an emotional scene. "I've been talking with the priest of Tyr all afternoon, and when I finished I felt like going for a walk, and then I spotted your tracks. I've had little time to talk with you since you got here, and we leave for West Harbor in the morning."

He tensed at the implication that this might be the last time they had to talk together. "Be on your guard there, daughter. You have seen how noxious the claimed lands are to life already. Do not linger any longer than is necessary. It will be tempting to look for survivors or mementos."

She cut him off. "I'm beyond that, father. I don't think there's any survivors to be found, and I don't even know if this is going to work. But I have to trust that the gods will show us the way. After all, they're the ones who chose me for this. I..." She looked at the ground trying to find the words. "While I'm gone, could you do me a favor? There's a boy here who goes by 'Wolf.' You may have seen him around the Keep."

Daeghun set the bundle of sticks he had gathered on the ground. "I have seen him. He also makes a habit of going off into the wilds alone, though he's quick and silent and knows how to hide, and he leaves hardly a mark of his passing."

Dee grinned. "Yeah, he's not half bad for a city-raised lad, though I s'pose hidin' and movin' quietly was useful there too." She got to the point. "He's a ranger, I think, though he's not sure yet. But he told me one day he thought he saw the Unicorn, just a fleeting glimpse mind you. He's a good lad, and I was thinkin' mayhap a someday Harper recruit too."

He nodded at her unspoken request that he watch over the boy until he was skilled enough to go out on his own. "I will show him how to make arrows when I am finished with my other duties, among other things." He stood there and watched her, a slight breeze toying with his flowing hair.

She considered how ageless he looked now, but she had seen him when he bore the full weight of his years. An idea which had germinated while she talked with the priest and grew while she sought Daeghun now burst into full bloom. She charged ahead before she lost her resolve again. "My companion Elanee isn't going with us. We're teleporting and Aldanon thought it best we take a small party, and Zhjaeve is going. El's been trying to find her way since...since we returned from the Mere. It can't be easy for her losing everyone she was raised with or seeing how easily they were turned into dark druids. I had an idea to help her, but I could use your help too."

He said evenly, watching her eyes, "What did you have in mind?"

She dropped to her haunches and put her arm around Cillian, trying to avoid eye contact with her foster father. "I've been trying to get shrines built for all the good gods at the Keep, and I think it would help her to have a shrine to Silvanus. She has mentioned it before, and we had one of the stone carvers make a small image for her. But not there at the Keep, out here in the wild. She has a favorite place she flies to when she needs to get away. 'Tis over that second hill." She pointed into the distance. "Mayhap she could plant a new druid grove too in time. Could you help her? I know you're busy, but it would give her a more formal place to commune with her god and help her heal."

"That's a good idea, Dierdre." If he was aware of any hidden agenda, he didn't show it. "I will find her and speak to her about it when we return to the Keep. Are you ready to return now? We can walk back together."

"Yes, I still have last minute arrangements to make before we leave. Some of my companions are still deciding if they're going or not." She frowned, thinking about Bishop reverting to his old line, "Maybe I will, and maybe I won't." She reminded herself he had been much more helpful lately though, and she was sure he would be there in the morning making Sand grumble about having to adjust the spell for his weight.

They walked through the trees with Daeghun taking the lead and Cillian stopping on occasion when he found something tasty to eat. Dee allowed herself a triumphant grin while Daeghun's back was turned. She considered briefly the age difference between her foster father and Elanee but shrugged it off. They were elves and would take things slowly, even with Dee's clumsy matchmaking. She was pleased with herself. She had seen to Bevil, gently pushing him towards Katriona's eager arms, and if she could help her father find happiness again it was worth it if she had to give up her own life.


	36. The Waiting

Chapter 36 The Waiting

Usual Disclaimers: Most of the characters are owned by a whole lot of other people and not me, other than an occasional NPC and a bear and paladin lovin' ranger, but not necessarily in that order.

Dee went at once to meet Sir Nevalle at his tower when she was informed that he had returned from Neverwinter. She found him talking quietly to Torio Claven, who embraced him then walked quickly towards her quarters. Dee rarely saw him in full battle armor as he was today. There was something resplendent about him, quite unlike his usual foppish appearance. He truly was a knight in shining armor. He pointed at the sword sheathed on Dee's right hip. "That's the famous Sword of Gith? May I see it?"

Dee drew the sword and held it out for Sir Nevalle to examine, though she held it possessively across her chest. "Here it is. I'm still learning how to wield it effectively."

He knit his delicate golden brows as he examined the blade closely then sniffed, "It certainly doesn't_ look _reformed. Why, there are still holes where shards are missing. What holds it together?"

She shrugged, annoyed that he disparaged _her_ sword as if the insult had been directed at herself, even more annoyed than the time he promised that after the war he was going to take her to town and transform her from a country rat into a sleek city mouse. She forgave him that time knowing he hadn't intended it as in insult. "_I _hold it together. It works well enough for me. All I need to do is to focus." She turned the blade in her hand. "It seems to have a set number of magical charges, but even after those are expended I can will the shards to encircle me like Zhjaeve's _Blade Barrier_ spell, or fly out in a hail at an opponent. I'm still trying to figure out what else it can do."

He looked as if he wanted to touch the sword, but as she hadn't offered it to him he restrained himself by folding his arms across his chest. "I would imagine the Githzerai has been helpful there. How do you get the shards back in place once you send them flying? Isn't there a danger of losing some of them?"

"I only have to find a quiet place where I can concentrate and think about it reforming, and it does." She shrugged, annoyed at not having a better explanation. "The shards fly to me at my will. Mayhap 'tis because I can channel the power of the one inside me. It's as if the blade has become a part of me and answers me."

It had been almost too easy in the end to reform the sword. Zhjaeve had talked her through it in a low monotone and put Dee into a trance as they sat cross-legged on the blighted patch of earth where the sword was destroyed. Though she had closed her eyes to help herself concentrate, in her mind's eye she could see the shards swirling around her and feel their awakening power outside her and radiating from the shard in her chest. She remembered Zhjaeve chanting, "The heart becomes the blade." When she came out of the trance, the reformed sword was laying in her arms, just in time to use against a shadow reaver and its obscene shadow minions, formed from her former friends and neighbors.

He nodded as he listened and she sheathed the sword. He gestured around the Keep. "Your preparations here look to be nearly completed."

She gasped softly at a sudden cramp in her belly that made her want to vomit as it sunk in that the time was nearly here, that she really was going to war, but she answered calmly, "Yes, I think the Keep and my 'Cloaks are as ready as they're going to be."

Nevalle returned a satisfied smile. "Excellent. I will inform Lord Nasher. I'm leaving with my personal guard as soon as my other horse is readied to join with Neverwinter's forces and head to Highcliff to meet the enemy there. My place is at our lord's side." He looked down and said softly, "I've been away from him for too long."

Dee said quietly, "I'm sure he has missed you too."

"Yes." He drew himself up and became the first of the Nine again. "Callum's forces are traveling from Old Owl Well to meet us." He looked at her grim resolve. "We will try to stop them there. If we must retreat, we will fall back and fight them here, so have your troops ready. You have probably a tenday or more of waiting ahead. I don't envy you that, Dee. I can tell you from experience that's the hardest part; I advise you to take this time to make any final arrangements."

Dee swallowed hard before she replied, "I've talked to Brother Ivar about turning the temple into a field hospital, and the Widow Jons and the other Sharessans are staying to help him out with triage. They've been rolling bandages and making potions in their spare time all summer long. We can seal off the windows and most of the doors of the temple, and if we have to, evacuate the wounded into the Keep proper through the tunnel in the cellar."

It turned out that not only the widow, but four of her nine 'entertainers' had taken vows to serve Sharess and had set up a shrine to the goddess in the cellar of the festhall, with the widow serving as high priestess. Dee had heard rumors of their rites that made her blush. Despite the fact that there was no pleasure to be found in the coming battle (other than the satisfaction that comes from helping others), she and those four had decided to stay. Coupled with the spells of the Cormyran sorceress there Sand had taken under his wing, they were a good additional line of defense.

Dee continued, "But for the next few days I'm sending some of the 'Cloaks to help get as much of the harvest as they can in before the undead filth spoils it. Otherwise we'll win this war only to face famine in the winter. I'm sending most of the civilians away tomorrow, and don't worry, I'll make sure your little ward is safely packed off with Sal, my housekeeper, and Miss Claven. The roads are safe enough now, but I'm sending a squad of Greycloaks to escort them to Lady Birney's horse farm and then the rest to Port Llast. What bandits we haven't rounded up or who haven't signed up have pretty much fled for safer environs." She met his eyes as he met hers then grabbed him and gave him a bear hug. "Be careful, Gilles."

He blinked in surprise but returned the hug and added a warm kiss on the cheek. "Don't worry, cous. If I can't be careful, I'll be deadly. You and our fair paladin be careful too. Gods willing, this will all be over soon and we can get back to planning your wedding." He smiled grimly and strode off to his waiting horse.

She swallowed the bile rising in her throat again and whispered as he walked away, "Yes, it will be over soon. That's what I'm afraid of." She scratched Cillian's head, took a deep calming breath and walked back towards the Keep proper.

The Greycloaks at the entrance snapped to attention as she passed. She spotted Wolf showing off the fletchings on his new arrows Daeghun had helped him make to one of his crew. She called out, "Are you packed, lad?" She walked over to meet him and took one of the arrows to examine it. "Hmm. Turkey vulture?"

He nodded, pleased with his work, and hesitated a few heartbeats while she examined the arrow, considering his words. "Captain, if you please, my birthday is comin' up, I'm near a man and well, I'm stayin', and so are most of the others. We're old enough to help out with runnin' for things during the battle, and we can use our bows on the wall." The other boy nodded in agreement.

She could see from the set of his jaw he was determined, and she conceded that he was right. "Very well, lad, but in that case I have another job for you. You know the spider in the Keep's dungeon? If the battle goes against us, I need you to round up your crew and anyone you can and get out through the escape tunnel with her. Go down there and get to know her and learn the way out now. The spider will help you fight if any of the undead army has found its way into the woods, or if you run across any more trolls. They'll need your skill to lead them through the woods and find them food and water there until you get to the road. Then make your way north."

He looked pleased by his new responsibility, but as it sunk in he looked as sickened as Dee had been. He grimaced and saluted her. "Yes, Captain." She smiled and saluted back and entered the Keep.

Kana was waiting for her as usual, and they talked briefly with the representative of a mercenary band who wanted to throw their lot in with hers. Dee had set very high standards for her recruits and had been rejecting mercenaries, criminals, or those who weren't physically fit, but time was short, and they looked more than capable. "You know war's comin' and you still want to sign up? I can't pay you more than the 'Cloaks are getting, and this isn't likely to be a fight like any you've faced before, but if you still want to join us, I welcome your swords. Kana, have them report to Sergeant Jalboun."

Many members of the Keep's staff didn't want to leave either, which wasn't a surprise since most of them were in service there because they were married, related to, or sweethearts of one of the Greycloaks. She addressed them in the great hall about evacuating and found that several of them had been learning to use weapons in their time off. It had been her head cook and baker Hiram's idea, and he explained this to her, acting as their spokesman. She recalled the day he showed up to enlist with his son when she first came to the Keep. It hadn't taken long to show him how easily he could be disarmed and left at the mercy of his opponent. She didn't want to humiliate him again, but better that than have his life on her conscience. There would be enough of that as it was. But she apprised him quickly and noted that his paunch was decidedly reduced, and he no longer had that lost look in his eyes like he was waiting for someone to tell him what to do. She motioned him forward and borrowed one of the guard's long swords.

He faced her with what looked like a large, heavy rolling pin. She nodded at the weapon. "What is that, some kind of cudgel? That's smart, choosing a weapon you're familiar with. Very well then, give us room. Show me what you know." Everyone else quickly retreated to the safety of the perimeter. Dee noticed his son was one of the guards on duty, but this time he stayed at his post though a quick glimpse of his eyes betrayed his anxiousness for his father.

They circled one another, and she observed that the hesitancy he had displayed the first time she faced him was gone. He was confident, but a little confidence can be a dangerous thing. She feinted with her right hand sword and moved to disarm him with her short sword in her left hand, but he saw through the ruse and blocked then followed up with a fierce blow that made her take a step back to dodge it. She followed up and hit him hard with the flat of her long sword, but he was able to swing his cudgel around and prevent her from following with the left. He made up for his lack of grace and speed with brute strength. They continued to trade attacks until Kana shouted, "Hold!"

Dee sheathed her short sword and offered her hand, grinning slyly at him. "I'm impressed, Hiram. You _have_ been practicing. Very well, you've proven your point; _you_ can stay." She called out to the others, "Anyone else who wants to stay can have a go with Kana or Katriona. If they feel you won't be more harm to us than good, we'll see to getting you some light armor too. But understand you'll be kept in reserve. When the battle starts we won't have extra 'Cloaks to spare to protect you, so you better see that you're armed at all times, even if you're just goin' to the privy, and be damned sure you're ready to fight." She returned the sword she had borrowed and watched as a dozen of them lined up without hesitation to follow Kana and Katriona out to the practice field.

She had arranged an early dinner for her companions outside in the cool shade of the grape arbor behind the kitchen garden. Despite the dark fetid clouds creeping up from the Mere, it was a hot, humid day. Everyone was present but Casavir, who was taking a squad on patrol on the surrounding lands, replacing one of the sergeants who slipped on the stairs and wrenched his knee. Dee was subdued, stroking Cillian's head absently, and her mood was contagious. Finally she grew tired of pushing her food around her plate and tapped her goblet with her knife to get their attention. "You all have weighed heavy upon my heart the past few days. Look, I know none of us thought were were going to war when we met up almost two years ago, least of all me. But I'm the Kalach-cha, and this is _my_ fight. I won't think less of anyone who wants to leave tomorrow. With your share of our spoils, you can go anywhere and do whatever you want." She thought, "You can live."

Ammon Jerro predictively snorted; she hadn't expected him to take her up on her offer, and he had nothing to go to anyway but the hells. Zhjaeve reminded her she had come to this plane for this purpose, while Khelgar was quick to object loudly that leaving would be the most dishonorable thing he could do, and added, "I've been waitin' for a fight like this since I met you, Captain."

Qara interrupted Khelgar in a shrill, angry voice, "I suppose your expecting me to leave? _I'm_ the most powerful one here. I say bring the fight! I'm ready for it! Undead burn really well, in case you haven't noticed." She glared at everyone as she drank her wine. Rather than seeing Dee's offer as a chance to escape with her life, Qara inferred yet another insult.

Sand met Dee's eyes and quipped with a smirk, "Then someone has to be here who can mind this little girl. Besides, dear girl, whatever would I do with myself if I wasn't rushing off with you to face some grisly death on a daily basis."

Dee turned to the druidess. "El, what about you? You've done your duty to the Circle of the Mere. Surely you'll serve nature better by beginning another druidic circle somewhere. Your faith is all about life, not war."

Elanee quietly shook her head as she fed a grape to her badger companion. "No, my place is here stopping this blight upon the land and restoring the Balance. If we prevail, there will be a time later for restoring nature."

Bishop shrugged not waiting for her to get to him and drawled, "I don't have much use for coin, and you know I could have left any time I wanted to. I still could." And he thought, "At least that devil who pulls my strings is getting me out of here. I'm gonna live. Can't say the same for you, Captain, and I'm almost sorry for it. But better you than me." He had made what he told Black Garius was to be his last communication because he had to move into the Keep with the inn closing. There was too much chance of getting caught, and if he was he would hang for sure. Garius had only replied, "We shall see, ranger," but after he gave Bishop his instructions to find some way of sabotaging the defenses, he also told him where to find an emergency cache with a small bag of gems and a nondescript ring that was enchanted to bring the wearer to him. Bishop thought, "Yeah, sweetheart, I'll be long gone when you're dancing with death."

Dee smiled gratefully at Bishop as he grew quiet. "Thanks, Bish." She thought she saw fear flash in his eyes as they met hers for a brief second, but she told herself he would be stupid not to be afraid.

Neeshka felt like all eyes were on her and she could feel a few beads of sweat running down her neck. Finally she said softly, "Yeah, I thought about heading out for Waterdeep or someplace more civilized like Silverymoon, but ...I'm not gonna run out on a friend, Dee. Don't worry about me, I have my lucky coin!" She didn't add that she had agreed to ferret out any troublemakers for Brother Ivarr. She had her suspicions of who amongst them might be trying to cause trouble, but suspicion was all she had, and thus far she hadn't been able to find proof, and that irked her more than encountering a lock she couldn't open. It was a challenge. She had also discovered that she liked espionage. It gave her the same heady rush she got from pulling off a heist, perhaps more. After the war she was considering offering her services to Lord Nasher's spymaster, and she reasoned she would need a recommendation from Dee.

Grobnar beamed serenely, looking like he was lost in the clouds. "I can't imagine being anywhere else but here at this time, Captain. Why, I simply must be here to finish the epic ballad I'm writing to commemorate the battle. Besides, I've just finished making a harness so I can ride the construct." He also had his own suspicions about a certain member of their company, like Neeshka did; unfortunately both of them had kept their suspicions to themselves, and he had little proof other than the disturbing incident with the construct's password. "No, I've got to be here keeping an eye on him so you have one less thing to worry about, my dear," he thought.

She wiped at her eyes, and her voice quavered as she answered, "Very well, then I'll give you the same advice Sir Nevalle gave me. Write your wills and take care of all your business. From what Nevalle said, we should have a tenday or more before..." She couldn't go on. They nodded at her in silent agreement. They adjourned then, each going his or her own way and lost in their own thoughts.

Kana reported as Dee walked back through the great hall that everyone she and Katriona had tested for weapon proficiency had passed. Dee sighed and reminded her, "Yeah, but the real test is going to be when they face a real enemy. All the 'Cloaks have faced bandits or trolls and orcs. I have half a mind to have Ammon or Zhjaeve summon some undead for them to fight tonight, and then we'll see who's in the wagons tomorrow."

Since for once there weren't several things requiring her immediate attention, Dee excused herself and went to her room, giving Cillian a hug on the way and whispering, "Happy hunting, my love," as he went down the stairs to the lower levels, where he often went outside using the same escape tunnel Kistrel used to go hunt. The bear had his own suspicions, but he kept them to himself because he was unable to share them with anyone but his bonded or the shapeshifter. He didn't trust the wolf-talker, who watched his bonded too closely for his liking, as if sizing her up for a weakness he could take advantage of. Cillian had also caught his scent but not his wolf's in the lower passages on his way out to hunt and was curious what he was doing alone down there.

Dee shut the door. She had been tempted to go through her things and give them away as mementos to members of her staff before they left. Casavir accepted her explanation that they might not come back to work at the Keep once it was safe and she wouldn't see them again. But his eyes betrayed a fleeting doubt, enough of one that she changed her mind, although she had given one of her maids her blue silk bodice because she caught her trying it on, and she gave her housekeeper a few small gems and a gold ring. She bathed and put on Esmerelle's Shou silk robe and drank a goblet of wine while she waited for Casavir though she told herself she should take Blossom for a ride or interrupt the Ironfists to work her forge for a few hours. She told herself she needed to be doing something physical instead of sitting here brooding, yet she remained.

Sand had stopped by and left the familiar potion bottle on the table next to the door as he did every tenday. She grimaced and wrinkled her nose at the acrid scent as she pulled out the stopper and poured it into the wine to make it more palatable. She was about to hold her nose and chug it when she had a sudden thought and set it down on the floor beside her as she dropped to her haunches beside her mother's trunk. Dee ran her fingers lovingly over her mother's initials on the lid. She had forgotten all about the cache of Esmerelle's letters in the hidden compartment, though Esmerelle's gems were long gone, used to fund some of the towers on the road. "What if there's something embarrassing in them, or worse? Wouldn't be right to leave them to be found by just anyone after..." she whispered. After all, _something_ had caused her mother to flee to West Harbor, and Dee had heard rumors aplenty from those who had known Esmerelle.

If Neeshka hadn't shown her where the release mechanism was, she would have been hard pressed to find it on her own; it was that well made. Resorting to more brute force than Neeshka's delicate finesse she pressed hard once she found the latch, which resisted then gave way all of a sudden, throwing her backwards and causing her to bump her goblet. "Shite!" she exclaimed as she grabbed her shirt out of her laundry hamper and mopped up what spilled. She quaffed the rest. She was about to get dressed to ask Sand if she should take another when she saw the packet of letters dangling enticingly on the edge of the open compartment. "I can wait for tomorrow for that nasty stuff," she muttered. "Don't know if there's any point now anyway."

She sat on her bed running her finger along the red ribbon binding them and turning the yellowed packet over in her hands. She drank another goblet of wine and then another, arguing with herself whether she even had a right to read them and whether she shouldn't throw the lot of them into the fireplace and set light to them. "But I have to know. She kept them, so they must've been important to her. There could even be somethin' in them that could tell me who my father is," she reasoned. "My father is Daeghun. Doesn't matter who did the deed with my mother," she argued aloud. "If only Cas was here..." But he wouldn't be back from patrol for at least an hour. While she hesitated turning the packet over and over the old ribbon gave way in her hands, spilling the letters onto her bed. "Well, I guess that's a sign," she whispered as she picked up the closest.

It had been folded tightly, and she could see lines that revealed that it had been refolded as if it had been read many times. When she opened it, she saw that some of the writing was smeared as if it had gotten wet, and Dee felt a chill as she realized it was from her mother's tears. Reading it was like hearing one side of a conversation and trying to infer the rest. She gasped as she saw the signature, which was simply "D," and realized that it must have been written by her mother's friend after whom she was named. The writer chided Esmerelle gently, telling her that she worried too much and promised to give in and retire after "this last haul that will set me up for life." They were supposed to meet in Waterdeep at tavern called _'The Prancing Unicorn'_ at the first of Greengrass. Daeghun had never talked much about her mother's life, but he had told Dee once that her mother had lost her dearest friend about two years before Dee had been born, and that she was never the same after. It was the first in a string of misfortunes that culminated in Esmerelle fleeing to West Harbor.

She carefully refolded it and picked up another because there was something familiar about the firm, masculine handwriting. She gasped as she recognized it as belonging to the Reverend High Justicar Oleff Uskar, with whom she had corresponded regularly since her trial. A quick perusal of the rest revealed several others in his hand, so she gathered those to read together. They, in fact, made up the majority of the letters. The first two spoke of people and experiences known only to the two of them, but his familiar, gossipy tone told Dee that he was more than a casual acquaintance of her mother's. There were references to other names she had heard. One she recognized as Casavir's father. Another was a bard named Carith Draven who Dee knew had been hanged for high treason and was buried in the Tomb of the Betrayers. Oleff warned her mother sternly in one letter that Draven was a treacherous creature and that she couldn't make him change no matter how hard she tried. A shadow passed over Dee's heart as she thought of how long she had been trying to change Bishop. She banished that thought because this was different; she was right about him, she knew it! She poured another goblet of wine and read on.

In another that was also smeared by tears and showed signs that it had been crumpled up then straightened out and carefully refolded, he wrote two pages worth of gossip and generalities before he worked up to an admonition to Esmerelle to "think of the children you're hurting" and end her dalliance with a married man, whose wife had come to see him. He sounded more like the Oleff Dee knew there. What a strange relationship her mother must have had with him, she mused. His tone was gossipy as a schoolgirl one moment and serious as, well, a judge, the next. For the second time Dee thought of stopping there and burning the rest, but she felt she had to continue. It wasn't as if it was news to her that some of her mother's lovers were married. There were at least four men and their wives in Neverwinter that had come to meet Dee and peer into her face for any resemblance.

She discovered folded together several poems he had written for Esmerelle, who he called his "dear little songbird." Dee didn't know enough about poetry (it hadn't been part of Daeghun's schooling of her) to make a judgment of their merit, but she knew from listening to Amie read from a book of romantic poetry she snuck out of Tarmas's library that they were sonnets. At least she thought they were. She smiled at this hidden side of Oleff, trying to reconcile the image of the stern judge with this writer of flowery romantic poetry. How close he must have felt to her mother to reveal this secret side of himself to her, as well as for her to have kept them hidden away. She had half a mind to show them to Grobnar for a professional evaluation. And then she read one dated about a year before she was born, a passionate erotic sonnet dedicated to her mother―Dee blushed and put it down, but picked it up when she found she couldn't stop reading―it betrayed an intimate knowledge of her as a lover.

Dee considered the date, counted on her fingers, and realized as she poured another goblet of wine he was as likely a candidate as any (and also realized as well this was a motive for his interest in her), but as she read the last, a sad poem about unrequited love, it was clear he knew her mother hadn't shared his feelings. She folded the poems and picked up his last letter, in which he began by explaining he didn't know how to reach her, so he was writing in care of Daeghun in hopes that his hunch was right and that she had gone to him. It was dated about three months before Dee was born and informed her of the trial of Draven and his subsequent hanging. He warned Esmerelle that Draven had implicated her and some others of their bardic company in his plot in an attempt to save himself, but Oleff had managed to convince Lord Nasher she was an innocent victim and had been deceived, "as Lord Nasher himself was, having taken that serpent into his bed," he added. He finished by entreating her sadly to come back to "those who love you and whose hearts break from missing you, I chief among them." She must had never replied as he had no idea she had died in West Harbor two years later until Dee told him.

"I'll have to write him something comforting, maybe mention that she kept his letters before..." She shook her head and carefully refolded his letters and set those aside on her nightstand then picked up and read another and another to get her mind off Casavir, who should have returned by now. But none of these told her anything, except for a short letter from Shayla (Dee was stunned to see from her signature that she had been related to Georg!) thanking her for some things she had sent her from the city and reminding Esmerelle she was always welcome in their home. Some others weren't even signed. There were a few thank-you letters from recipients of Esmerelle's scholarship at the bardic college. Clearly the writers had been important enough in Esmerelle's life that she kept their letters, but they said little to Dee about her mother.

She shook her head as she went to refill her goblet and realized she had drunk the whole bottle, and was feeling its effects. She cursed and set the bottle down. "Becoming a drunk isn't going to help anything," she muttered crossly. Somewhere in her travel bag was a potion that neutralized poisons. She grinned with satisfaction as she found it then quaffed it down. The potion took effect in no time, and she could think with a clear head. "Enough of this sittin' around feelin' sorry for myself." She gathered the rest of the letters along with the letter from her mother's 'Dierdre' and shoved them in her bag then dressed in a tunic and leggings and pulled on her boots and her weapon belt, deciding to force herself to do something productive so she wouldn't brood about the coming war or about Casavir.

Dee was met on her way through the great hall by Cillian, who was back from his hunt and in a grumpy mood because although he had caught a few fish (and something in the tunnel that was crunchy on the outside and gooey on the inside but not all that tasty), he hadn't caught the ranger, just his scent. Dee walked around the Keep making surprise inspections of armor and weapons at the guard stations and along the wall, and was pleased to find none of her 'Cloaks slacking. She walked back through the village watching Jacoby helping Sal board up the windows of the inn and spotted Bevil. But as she got closer she saw he was talking to Katriona, and she wasn't about to interrupt their quiet time together. She smiled and whispered a prayer to Sune for them turned to walk along the row of shrines constructed over the past year.

There were several shrines now clustered together between the temple of Tyr and the barracks, shrines to Tymora, Mystra, and Lathander, as well as one dedicated to the death god. There was an empty shrine waiting for the image of Meilikki. She had paid for clerics to travel to the Keep and bless each of the complete shrines, the cleric of Kelemvor traveling all the way from Waterdeep. Dee entered the shrine; though the prescribed time for mourning for Shandra had passed, she still made small offerings of cedar incense and red wine to the death god every day when she was at the Keep. She reached into her bag and put the rest of the letters in a brazier, added incense from a container beside the god's symbol, and struck a flint to set light to them. She whispered as she watched the flames consume them, "These must have been important to you, mama, so I'm sending them back ."

Kneeling and raising her hands to the level of her chest, palms facing out, she prayed silently for the Neverwintan forces marching towards Highcliff, then for her companions that they wouldn't appear before the death god's throne unless it was their time. It didn't seem right to ask the same for herself. That would be rejecting the destiny written for her that day almost twenty years ago, and she had nearly come to terms with it. Nearly. She knew in her heart she would live long enough to fight the King of Shadows no matter what fate threw at her. But after? Yet it occurred to her as she meditated before the god's symbol that there was something she could do. She brought her palms together, closed her eyes, and reached out to the god with another silent prayer. "Kelemvor, I willingly surrender my life to stop this abomination. But please, let my life be enough. Spare the lives of those I care for."

Whether the god heard her prayer she didn't know, but she sighed softly as if a huge weight was lifted from her. She smiled and stood, whistling for Cillian, and walked back to the Keep.

They had just walked back into her chamber when Casavir arrived from up the back stairs carrying his armor bag, his tunic, cheeks, and trewes thick with marble dust. Dee went to put her arms around him and gasped as she realized where he had been. "Ooh, You've been working on Meilikki!"

He tried to hold her away from himself though his heart wasn't in it. "Indeed I have, my lady, and I am filthy. I don't want to get you dirty. I wanted to finish it before...your birthday." It wasn't really a lie because her birthday was less than a month away and that was his intent. But they were both beginning to avoid the topic of the coming war as much as possible unless they needed to discuss it.. Save that for the War Room. This was their time.

Her eyes widened. "It's finished then?" She threw her arms around him and kissed him despite the dust.

He accepted the kiss but still tried to hold her back. "Yes, I believe I have, finally." Tired as he was from patrol, he wanted to do something to lighten her somber mood of the past few days since they had returned from West Harbor, and so he had sent one of Wolf's crew for his armor bag then chiseled away at the statue all evening until he was satisfied. But that wasn't good enough; then he sought the opinion of his mentor, a few of Veedle's other stonemasons who hadn't left yet, as well as a few curious Ironfists, who walked around it several times before they pronounced it not bad, "fer a hoomin."

Dee squealed with delight, hugged him, and kissed him again. "Ooh, I want to see it! Let's go now!"

Casavir chuckled as she excitedly kissed him lightly all over his face. "I knew you would be pleased. But wouldn't you rather wait until morning when the light is better?"

"No, I'm too excited!" But she observed the shadows of tiredness on his face and thought better of it, although she knew he would give in to her if she pressed him. "Have you even eaten supper, love? You're right, It'll be there in the morning and the light _will_ be better. I'll run down to the kitchen and get you something while you wash up. Then I can thank you _properly_ after you eat."

He flushed because he sighed too loudly with relief and his stomach rumbled too loudly at the mention of food. "Thank you, my love, but don't go to too much trouble. I'll take whatever is on hand in the kitchen." He had wanted nothing more this eve than to bathe then fall asleep with her in his arms, but her last promise pushed all thoughts of sleep from his mind. "Is that a promise? Then hurry back."

Dee smiled at him as she watched him pull his tunic over his head. It occurred to her that this was the first time he had used that endearment, but she said nothing. She left him to his cool bath while she and her grumpy bear went to the kitchen. She slipped into the kitchen quietly so she wouldn't disturb any of the staff, lit a lantern, and tiptoed down the stairs to the cold storage. "What am I going to do about Cas," she asked Cill as she prowled through the cabinets and inside crocks, not really expecting an answer. She couldn't bear to think of Casavir grieving alone when she was gone. How long would it be before he was back somewhere like Old Owl Well? That was her greatest fear.

She thought about it as she took a knife and sliced a beef roast thinly the way he liked it and added some aged cheese, tossing slices to Cillian too. There wasn't anyone she could think of who would make a good match for him. Kana? No, surely not. She sliced some more meat for herself and heard footfalls on the stairs as she spread some barley bread with mustard. Her hand reflectively went to her sword hilt, but it was only Hiram, who stood at the bottom of the stairs holding his cudgel in a defensive position. She gave him an embarrassed grin. "Sorry, I was trying to be quiet. Cas hasn't eaten since this morning."

"Figured it was just someone down for a snack, Captain. Your furry friend there comes down here all the time lookin' for leftovers. And those kids are always looking for cookies, and that warlock too, but you can't be too careful." He opened up a cupboard and produced a meaty bone for Cillian, who looked rather sheepish at being found out.

Dee chuckled at the thought and cleaned up after herself. "Ammon Jerro raids the cookie hoard at night?"

"Oh yes, Captain, on a regular basis. Especially when I've made ginger snaps. Here, take a few back to your lord." He reached for a crock on a high shelf and winced with pain.

She recalled wistfully that those had been Shandra's favorites too. She saw him grimace as he pulled down the crock. "Still sore from this afternoon?" She walked over and put her hand on his shoulder and prayed for Mielikki's healing power.

He stretched and rotated his arm, testing the healing. "Thanks, Captain, I feel good as new. There's some peaches and cream left over here. Why don't you take that too?"

She carried her tray back up the stairs and resumed her thoughts of matchmaking. "Neesh? No, she's not his type, but I'll ask Neesh and Sand to take care of him, keep him from brooding too much. Khel too, and Nevalle." She paused as she balanced the tray on one arm so she could open the door and waited as Cillian ambled in before her. She thought, "Mayhap I should ask for Oleff's help too. It wouldn't be too much to ask him to watch over my love for me."

Casavir had just finished bathing by the time she returned and was waiting for her in their bed, fighting sleep and propped up against the headboard with pillows, his arms folded behind his head. He smiled at her as she walked in and kicked the door shut behind her. She smiled back and took him in, her eyes traveling from his handsome face down his broad chest to the rippling muscles of his abdomen, though with just enough of the sheet covering him for modesty. There was enough dampness from his bath remaining to bring out the wave to his hair and make the dark hair on his broad muscular chest glisten. "He has come so far since last winter when he would pull the sheet up to his neck to hide his nakedness from me," she mused as she set the tray down on the bedside table. Cillian made himself comfortable on the hideous rug in front of the fireplace while Casavir moved aside for her and patted the bed.

"Hungry?" she asked as she sat on the bed and pulled off her boots, then her tunic and her leggings.

He watched her as she undressed, making no move towards the tray of food. "Famished." He replied, his voice husky with desire.

"See anything you want?" She turned her head and smiled seductively then shed her small clothes slowly for his entertainment while she willed herself not to think of how little time they likely had left. She thought as she slipped into his arms and received the first of many ardent kisses, "When I'm with him like this I can forget everything, at least for a few golden moments."

Afterwards they sat on the bed facing one another with the tray between them eating and talking. She told him about her meeting with Nevalle and the rest of her day. He told her his squad had run into a few trolls, which had infested the hills around the Keep lately. They discussed whether the creatures were fleeing the shadow or were merely the advance troops. Casavir looked at the yellowed letters on the night stand as he reached for the water jug. He had noticed them as he got into bed to wait for her, but he would never think of reading anything of hers unless she asked him to. Yet he was curious, and that got the better of his reservations. "What are these, Dee? They look very old."

"They were hidden in my mother's trunk. Would you like to read them?" As she handed them to him, he also recognized the hand of the High Justicar and raised an eyebrow.

She watched him as he read, smiling at how quickly he blushed and put aside the erotic poem. "What do you think, love? Should I let him know she kept his letters and offer to send them back to him? I think mayhap he suspects he's my father because of the timing of my birth. We both know he was one of many though. It's awkward too, because _Daeghun_ is my father. Still, Oleff obviously cared for her deeply."

He rubbed his chin as he thought about it. "Yes, by all means, write to him. You need not say anything other than mentioning finding the hidden letters. He won't likely be with Neverwinter's forces at Highcliff at his age. I would imagine he's still in the city helping with the administration and the defenses. But it wouldn't hurt to write out something while you have time mentioning them and asking if he would like them returned. I would imagine he, like us, is waiting for news from Highcliff, with not much else to do." He stretched over her and put them back on her nightstand.

"While I can, you mean." She chuckled dryly then took a quaff of water and set the tray aside too. "I will write him tomorrow. I have plenty of time. There's only so many times I can inspect the 'Cloaks. I'll do it after I help cut the wheat. Nevalle was right, this waiting for word is gonna be torture."

He stifled a yawn while he straightened out the tangled bedding and stretched out on the bed. "We will have to busy ourselves to keep our minds off it then, my love. Perhaps I shall join you in the fields tomorrow. We should get some sleep."

Dee turned over and blew out the lantern then snuggled under the covers against his chest as he wrapped his arm around her, trying not to feel depressed by his second use of that particular endearment. "Yes, let's."

The wagons pulled out of the Keep at midmorning the next day, and Dee was pleased to see that three of the twelve that had wanted to stay thought better of it once faced with the prospect of being trapped here (and she hadn't even had to resort to conjured skeletons to do it). That afternoon with the help of a few of Veedle's men who had opted to stay to help with any repairs (Master Veedle himself was in the first wagon out), Casavir moved the image of Meilikki into the shrine prepared for it. There was no time to send for a cleric to consecrate the shrine, not that there were any clergy of Meilikki in Neverwinter anyway. The closest was in Silverymoon, so Dee consecrated the shrine herself, consulting Aldanon and Brother Ivarr for instructions on the proper way to conduct the ritual.

The next tenday passed like a dream. Dee wrote three drafts of the letter to the High Justicar before she was satisfied with it then sent it off with an acolyte who was delivering correspondence to the temple of Tyr in Neverwinter. A year before they had lived leisurely, as if they had all the time in the world, but now life was a frenzy of activity, of trying to accomplish the things everyone wanted or needed to do before...It was strange walking by the boarded up houses, merchant shops, and the inn. The festhall was still open for now (and busier than ever with off-duty Greycloaks) though the windows there too were boarded up. They had put so much effort and gold into rebuilding the village, and Dee had to ask herself if it had been worth it. There was no word from Highcliff, but the eerie gloom was growing stronger each day.

Then about twelve days after Sir Nevalle had left for Highcliff a guard who was stationed on the wall and equipped with a spyglass shouted that riders were coming at a gallop. "One looks to wear the device of the Nine," he shouted. Dee, followed by Casavir and Sand, hurried to the gates to meet the riders. Nevalle and his guard raced into the Keep, their horses frothy and nearly dropping from exhaustion. He looked nothing like the shining knight who had left. His surcoat was torn and bloody, his armor was dull and dented, and his perfect hair was greasy and plastered to his head when he removed his helm. Dee could see from his dark, frantic expression his news wasn't good.

He nearly fell off his horse and didn't wait for her to ask. "We were...overcome. There were waves upon waves of skeletons, zombies, and worse. Much worse..." He shuddered at the recollection of the horror. "We were forced to retreat. And Lord Nasher..." He struggled with tears as Dee gasped, "No!"


	37. Love in the Moment

Chapter 37 Love in the Moment

Usual disclaimers: I took some liberties with the dialog from the OC, and there is more in this chapter than I like to use, as well as paraphrasing. The characters in this story are owned by a whole lot of other people and not me, with the exception of an occasional NPC and a bear and paladin lovin' ranger. I do take liberties with the OC sometimes too.

The Greycloaks who accompanied Sir Nevalle dismounted and handed their weary horses off to the stablehands. Elanee followed to tend to them, muttering about running the poor things into the ground. The Keep's Greycloaks showed Nevalle's to the barracks, helping two of them who were too weak to walk on their own to the temple to get Brother Ivarr to treat them. Dee turned her attention to Sir Nevalle.

Despite his exhaustion Nevalle felt compelled to explain. "Lord Nasher's alive but...badly wounded. Perhaps mortally." He flushed, his face a mask of shame and horror as he described the battle of Highcliff. "There were so many of them, Dee, wave upon wave of them, and Lord Nasher waded into the fray though we had urged him to watch the battle from the safety of the cliff. I warned him his golden armor made him stand out from the rest of Neverwinter's forces and drew the enemy like a beacon, but he wouldn't let me put it on and take his place as a decoy. Thus the intelligent undead and shadow priests targeted him."

She swallowed hard, thinking of the day of her knighting. "Intelligent undead―shadows and vampires."

Nevalle was also thinking of the attack on Castle Never. "He called for his Nine, but we were..._I_ was unable to get to him in time." He sobbed, "I blame myself, Dee. They're bringing him here to be treated. We require a room for him, someplace where it's dark and quiet."

Casavir immediately volunteered his old room, which he had kept as a meditation and arming chamber. "Let us get you to your tower and then I'll go remove the rest of my things."

Dee gave Nevalle a hug then called out to Kana, who was striding up to join them, " Lord Nasher has been injured and is being brought here to recover. Have Casavir's room made ready for him and have Zhjaeve meet us at Sir Nevalle's tower." Kana saluted crisply then hustled off at once to see to the hundred little details required by a visit by someone of the stature of their Lord, wounded or not.

Nevalle looked as if he was ready to collapse. Casavir had gotten him a dipper of water and held it for him as he drank slowly then put an arm around him to steady him. "Come, Gilles, let us get you to your quarters." Dee stepped up on his other side and put her arm around him as well.

Nevalle closed his eyes and tried to compose himself as they walked him to his tower. "Darmon rode for Neverwinter to bring priests and healers to meet us here. Callum and his forces were holding off the undead army while we got Lord Nasher and the other wounded away. But we didn't have time to gather the dead, and I fear...we've left them to be added to the enemy's forces."

The horror on his face brought back memories of West Harbor and made the bile rise in Dee's throat. To this day she didn't know how many of her neighbors had been raised as shadows, or whether it had all been a charade to weaken her resolve. She swallowed the bile back and focused Nevalle. "They should be here within a tenday then." She tried to sound matter-of-fact, but she knew she failed miserably, though only Casavir noticed. Nevalle was too far gone to do anything but grunt in agreement. They helped him out of his armor and carefully removed his clothing. Zhjaeve arrived as Casavir was returning with a basin of fresh water and clean cloths to wash his wounds. The Widow Jons and her Sharessans hurried over too as soon as word reached them he had returned. Nevalle was one of their best customers, a regular participant during their rites of Sharess, and next to Sand, their favorite. They waited until the Githzerai finished casting a healing spell before they turned their attention on Nevalle, gently taking over bathing, bandaging, and comforting him.

Dee and Casavir left him, promising to stop by later to see how he was doing. Once they got outside Dee paused and grimaced. Cillian sniffed the air in alarm and Casavir asked, "Is something amiss, my lady?" as she excused herself and forced herself to walk calmly but quickly into the privy near the women's barracks to yield to her churning stomach. She stepped out, rinsed her mouth with water from the rain barrel, and accepted Casavir's damp handkerchief to wipe her face.

He looked concerned, having waited with Cillian close enough that he heard her retching. "Feel better now, my love? Don't fret. That's a common reaction to war, more common than you know. I became sick after my first battle during the war with Luskan." He took her hand and smiled sweetly at her.

She slipped her arms around his neck, lay her head against his chest, closed her eyes, and allowed herself a few moments of basking in his calming presence. She _did_ feel better now that it was out. "Yes, much. Come, let's go look in on Nevalle's troops." It wasn't seeing the wounded; she had seen plenty of wounds and death in her young life. It was the idea that her own Greycloaks would soon be among the injured and dead, and perhaps her friends. She closed her eyes and uttered a silent prayer to the god of the dead, reminding him of their deal.

Several hours later a guard on the wall shouted that she saw riders and wagons in the distance accompanied by Greycloaks on foot. Dee and Casavir hurried to the top of the wall and took turns peering into the distance with her spyglass. She sent one of Wolf's crew to tell Kana they were arriving and went to await them at the doors to the Keep proper. Dee assigned Bevil and Katriona to finding quarters for the arriving Greycloaks. The Widow Jons and her Sharessans stood by to assess the wounded and direct those who needed more than bandages, poultices, and a kiss to the temple, where the pews had been moved aside and two of Brother Ivarr's acolytes had set up cots and waited to treat the most seriously wounded.

Lord Nasher was brought to the Keep in a covered wagon. Nevalle, though still rather weak, was out of bed as soon as word reached him and waiting anxiously with them. Lord Nasher was put on a litter, which was carefully removed from the wagon and borne by four Greycloaks. Sir Nevalle walked with them as they carried him up the stairs, followed by Brother Ivarr and Zhjaeve. Dee saw his face for a moment as they passed. His eyes were sunken, and his skin was so ashen she might have wondered if he was alive if he hadn't been conscious enough to meet her eyes for a heartbeat. She and Casavir followed but stepped out into the hallway while they put him into bed.

Nevalle was shooed off by the clerics so they could remove Lord Nasher's bandages and examine his wounds. He came to wait beside Dee and Casavir and whispered, "Darmon went for clerics of Lathander from Neverwinter. I pray they arrive in time."

Dee was gaped at him. She wanted to ask how bad could he be if Brother Ivarr or Elanee and Zhjaeve couldn't heal him, and at the same time she wondered why Lathander's clerics were being summoned. Casavir nudged her as her curiosity got the better of her and she asked, "What happened? Why were the clerics with him unable to heal him?"

Nevalle bit his fist before he answered. "They swarmed him, biting him, exsanguinating him, and tearing at him with their filthy claws. Father Imarth of Tyr said he has been cursed, but their counter spells have been ineffective thus far. They healed his wounds, yet they say he weakens more with each day."

Dee met Casavir's eyes as the meaning of the word and the truth of Lord Nasher's affliction sunk in. She mouthed, "vampire," and immediately put her hand over her mouth, mindful of not saying anything within earshot the Greycloaks on duty in the hall. Casavir nodded grimly. It made sense to her then, sending for a cleric of the god of dawn and the sun to heal someone cursed by darkness.

She recalled a conversation with Brother Merring when she was still a pig-tailed girl of fourteen not long after he arrived in West Harbor. Upon hearing from Georg she was learning the skills of a ranger from Daeghun, he told her about special rangers who served Lathander, making it their mission to hunt down and destroy the undead. She thought now about how funny life was. She had laughed at the time at the very idea of a ranger spending all his or her time in some dank crypt instead of out in the fresh air, but now she had to admit she felt as driven to hunt the ghasts and ghouls as she once had been to fight orcs.

Since there was nothing else to do they offered hollow words of encouragement while they waited until Sir Nevalle was allowed back inside and they felt they could leave.

The next two days passed maddeningly slowly. Sir Nevalle had his tower closed up and slept on the floor on a pallet beside Lord Nasher's bed until Dee had the divan moved from the solar for him. Lord Nasher was no better, but thankfully no worse, though even the Dawnbringer of Lathander was unable to remove the curse. He advised waiting, reasoning that if Lord Nasher was the thrall of a vampire, it would come for his victim eventually and likely would have done so already if it wasn't also bound to serve its master. He also cautioned them to station more guards outside the room and in the solar, lock the door, and bar the windows to keep him from escaping in the night if the call of the vampire proved too strong to resist.

A courier from Waterdeep arrived and Sir Nevalle spoke with him, acting as Lord Nasher's proxy. Nevalle, looking grim, found Dee sparring with Jalboun in the practice yard. "We received some good news. The Lord's alliance and Waterdeep have reinforcements on the way, but if we can't hold this Keep until they arrive, all is lost."

She said flatly, "Then we better make damn sure we hold it. We must proceed as if they weren't comin'."

A day later a guard who was posted on the wall shouted for the Knight Captain saying that there had been a message received from the tower near the river via semaphore. Dee hurried to the wall at once, followed by Casavir. "What is it, Brennem?"

The Greycloak replied, "The message was, 'One of Nine, troops, fighting monster. Send help!'" He screwed up his face as he waved his flags back and waited for the message to be returned. Dee shouted down for their horses to be readied at once and sent another Greycloak to inform their companions. Finally the guard shrugged and replied, "There's a big question mark there, Captain. He says it's 'unholy.'" The horses were saddled within minutes as the guard reported, "Sorry, Captain, there's been no further communication." But Dee knew at once what "unholy" meant: a shadow reaver was there fighting Callum.

At that moment Elanee, who was patrolling in the lands away from the roads in the form of a falcon, flew into the Keep and landed looking sickened as she shifted into her elven form. "I saw the undead army coming from the southeast. It was horrible, Dee. They weren't moving, just standing there under the trees, and some of the the ones that still had flesh were bloating in the sun. It was horrible, such an abomination of nature!"

Casavir jumped gracefully onto Thunder's back as Ammon Jerro, Sand, and Khelgar hurried to join them. He said, "It's likely they're controlled by the need of most of their leaders to avoid the sun. The skeletons and zombies are but fodder."

Dee accepted a leg up from a Greycloak and spurred Blossom. She shouted to her companions, "Come on, I'll fill you in on the way."

They were riding down the ridge when they spotted Callum and several of his warriors surrounded by blade golems and skeletons, trying to reach a shadow reaver directing them. The ground was slick and stained with the blood of the Greycloaks who had fallen. She spurred Blossom hard, drew her blades and charged, but was still too far away when she saw Callum cut down along with his remaining troops. Casavir also spurred Thunder and rode right behind her, using his war hammer effectively to knock the heads off the skeletons as he passed.

The reaver turned his attention to Dee, taunting her. "I remember you from Castle Never. You cannot hope to defeat me, and your corpse and those of your companions will now be added to our army." He gestured at the golems, which glowed briefly as he imbued them with the the elements of fire, acid, and lightning.

Dee uttered a vile curse and added, "Not if I send you to the hells first."

Sand muttered, "Oh dear, yes, let's bring his mother into this," as he reined his horse and prepared a protective spell.

Khelgar studied the golems for structural weaknesses as he dismounted from his pony and drew the Hammer of Ironfist, aiming for the knees and using his monk training to enhance his blows. He was effective in crippling two of them, though he was injured by their fire and acid attacks.

Ammon Jerro summoned a skeleton to protect himself then cast his own version of an invisibility spell. He had reined his horse on the ridge and began chanting the names from his scroll focusing on the reaver, staying far enough away that he wouldn't be interrupted by an attack but close enough for the spell to take effect.

Dee and Casavir aided by Khelgar and Cillian fought on stoically, trying to buy Ammon Jerro enough time to finish chanting all the names and complete the spell. She used the Blade Storm attack of the sword, knocking one of the golems over and making dents in the rest. Then she willed the blade to surround her and Casavir with a Shard Barrier.

Sand and the shadow reaver blasted each other with fireballs and bolts of energy. He cast another spell that created an enchanted sword to fight the golems, and another which caused a giant hand to appear that tried to grapple the shadow reaver.

Suddenly a dark bolt of power flew at the reaver from the ridge, and they knew Ammon Jerro was signaling that he had succeeded in reading the scroll. Dee pointed the hilt and willed her the shards of her sword to fly at the reaver, who screamed in rage and fear as he realized their attacks were having an effect on him. Sand attacked immediately with his Mordenkainen's Disjunction spell, and then they all turned their attacks on it until it crumpled to the ground. Khelgar finished the remaining golem as Dee and Casavir ran to Callum's side.

Casavir shook his head. "It has been too long. He's gone."

Dee nodded numbly and joined him in a prayer to Tyr as Sand and Ammon Jerro examined the remains of the shadow reaver. Jerro removed a ring from a bony finger while Sand went through a magic bag the creature carried and withdrew a large black book. He stared wide-eyed and gasped, "Oh my!"

Jerro looked over to see what he found. "Hmm...Looks like it's bound in human skin...could it be? Is that the _Tome of Iltkazar_? Was the reaver fool enough to bring it with him?" But he could see by the covetous gleam in the elf's eyes that it was. "I suppose it would have needed it to transport the golems here. Its loss will greatly hamper our enemy's efforts."

Jerro, Khelgar and Casavir remained behind guarding the dead while Dee and Sand rode back to the Keep to take the tome to Aldanon and to see to the grim task of sending wagons to transport the fallen to the Keep for burial. The little cemetery beside the temple of Tyr would be filled to capacity and then some, so Dee decided on the way back to create a new cemetery outside the wall. Nevalle was waiting for them to return and somberly listened to the news about Callum. Dee knew they weren't exactly friends, but they had the fraternal bond of service to Neverwinter, and she was learning that those bonds often exceeded those of friendship and kinship. "As a Tyrran and a member of the Nine, Callum should be buried inside the temple unless Lord Nasher says otherwise. We could hold a service in the morning unless...but from Elanee's report, the rest of the undead army shouldn't be here for a few more days, so we have time."

"Thank you, Dee. I think he would like being laid to rest here since he gave his life defending this Keep, though I feel he would rather be buried outside the walls with his troops. It would be like he was with us in spirit during the battle to come. I fear Nash will take his death hard. He was fond of Callum, and with him and Melia gone, his Nine..." He shuddered as his grief overcame him, unable to go on.

Dee replied guiltily as she pulled him into a hug, "I asked for time to think about it when Lord Nasher offered me the honor of joining you. Tell him for me I'll give him an answer after this is all over." It wasn't a lie really, she told herself. If she lived she had every intention of following through.

Nevalle didn't look nearly as appalled by the thought as he did when Lord Nasher first offered her the position. "I'll let him know. Now if you will excuse me, I'll go tell Nash about Callum then speak to Brother Ivarr about the service."

Sand accompanied Dee to the library, where they pulled the tome out of Dee's bag and presented it to the befuddled sage. It was as if merely seeing it awakened him from a long slumber. Aldanon recognized the tome at once then drifted off into a story about summer in Candlekeep when he was a lad and a dalliance with a young priestess of Oghma.

Since it seemed like it was going to become a long story, Sand interrupted him. "Yes, that's all very good, but we need to see if there's something in it that will let us find the lair of King of Shadows. Come, let's begin our study, shall we?" He directed Aldanon into a chair and sat right next to him, and they both put on soft gloves so they wouldn't damage the pages and reverently opened the cover. But once they began reading, Aldanon's attention was focused keenly on his task. Dee made arrangements with Aldanon's apprentices, some of whom couldn't resist reading over their master's shoulder as well, to remind him to take regular privy and meal breaks before she and Cillian left to ask for volunteers from the Greycloaks to form a grave-digging detail.

Callum was buried the next morning in a vault in the temple next to Shandra rather than outside with his troops, though when Nevalle spoke with Lord Nasher he said he was of a mind to have him disinterred after the war and moved to Neverwinter to be given a hero's burial there. They set aside gold to pay for a monument to the fallen in the new cemetery. Every cleric at the Keep blessed the dead to protect them from being raised by the shadow priests.

Dee increased the patrols and sent out every scout available, though she was irritated that Bishop seemed to be perpetually drunk and rarely went out to help scout anymore. She didn't understand what his problem was. Besides the sour reek of alcoholic sweat, she could smell something else she couldn't put her finger on. He did help out in unexpected ways though, she reminded herself, such as performing his own inspections at the gates. That took the edge off her irritation. He told her he wanted to make sure with Veedle and most of its men gone that the chains and ropes that opened and closed the main gate were being maintained. That seemed odd, but she shrugged it off and told herself she should be glad he thought of something she hadn't.

Bishop had his own reasons for making an inspection of the Keep's defenses, and he also made a quick trip down to Grobnar's workshop alone when he knew the gnome was away singing for Lord Nasher, and quickly tested the command word to the construct. It worked perfectly, and after he satisfied himself by giving it a few simple commands, he told it to rest then went to finish a bottle of rum. But he wasn't alone, as Karnwyr would have told him if he had brought him along.

One of Wolf's crew, a girl named Dulcie, liked to watch the gnome work and was enchanted by his stories and his songs. She had fallen asleep waiting for him to return on a pile of burlap sacks under a table, hidden behind a messy stack of boxes and debris. She was awakened when she heard the clang of the construct moving across the stone floor. But the gnome's cheerful singing didn't greet her ears. Instead she heard another male voice giving orders to the construct, so she clutched her dagger at her waist and withdrew into the shadows. She peered out when she heard the visitor leaving. When Grobnar returned and she was quite sure he was alone, she shyly told him what she had observed and finished with, "It was that ranger, the one with the wolf. I didn't see his face, but I saw him from the back as he passed up the stairs. I don't know why I hid. I feel silly because he's one of the Knight Captain's companions, but I just had a funny feeling."

He smiled kindly at her and patted her arm. "Perfectly understandable. But keep what you saw to yourself for now, won't you?" She nodded, thinking this request was strange too but figured he was older and wiser than she. "And that reminds me of a song. If you could fetch me that spare mandolin, I'll teach you to play it, and you can take the mandolin with you and practice." Grobnar correctly estimated the attention span of a fifteen-year-old human girl with a new toy, and by the time he had taught her a few basic chords then the chorus and finally coaxed her to sing along with him, she had forgotten all about Bishop's visit. But the gnome hadn't. He was surer than ever that Bishop was up to no good, but he knew that telling the Captain would be as useful as telling the wall. But the paladin, on the other hand...

However, Grobnar didn't get a chance to tell Casavir that day. Daeghun sent word that the enemy was setting up camp down by the river. So far they had only brought crates of supplies, and the bulk of the army hadn't arrived. Dee sent a squad of Greycloaks ahead then summoned her companions, Kana, Nevalle, and her sergeants to the War Room where she pointed to the bridges on the map. "I hate to say it considering it cost us twenty thousand in gold to build 'em, but Kana thinks if we destroy the bridges it would slow them down." She knew traveling under water wouldn't be a barrier to the skeletons, zombies, and ghasts, but Kana thought enough of them might be swept away by the swift current if they tried crossing. "I don't know if fireball spells will be enough to do it though." She looked from Sand to Qara for confirmation.

Qara met Dee's eyes and sneered, "_Mine_ will. I can't say the same for _his_." However, she looked away then, as if she didn't quite believe her own assertion.

Sand shook his head and replied tersely, "Those bridges are built of stone, not wood. Therefore, your fireballs will have little effect." Dee had asked him to refrain from addressing Qara as 'idiot girl' but the words were still conveyed by his tone. They bickered for several minutes until Dee rubbed her temples and insisted they stop.

Grobnar had a sudden inspiration and stood on a chair and banged on the table to get their attention. He said excitedly, "Oh! I know just the thing! I could create more blastglobes with some help from Aldanon's assistants! If we place them around the support structure of the bridges, a single fireball will activate them and bring them down in no time!" He was so excited that as soon as Dee nodded in agreement, he ran off to the small stone workshop he had outside the Keep proper where he conducted his more volatile experiments, along with a few willing helpers. Unfortunately, like a child with a new toy, the prospect of controlled mayhem drove all thoughts of Bishop from his mind.

Qara muttered, "I'll be in my chamber. But I warn you, don't you dare come crawling to me if the idiot blows himself and half the Keep up. You'll have to make due with the hedge wizard."

Grobnar crafted a dozen blastglobes in record time with only one minor explosion that blew out a wall but caused no injury to him or his helpers. He had the foresight to create them one at a time and carefully store each completed blastglobe nestled in a bed of straw in a sturdy crate. He proudly reported his success to the others in the War Room within the hour. They decided that sending a small stealthy attack force that could place the globes without engaging the enemy directly, unless they had to, was the best strategy. The only question was who was going to go. Casavir insisted on coming. Bishop snorted. "Yeah, right, a deaf man could hear his holiness coming a mile away." But Casavir could travel in lighter armor, and had on many occasions. Neeshka seemed an obvious choice for stealth, and if they encountered another shadow reaver, they needed Ammon Jerro or Zhjaeve along.

Dee paced nervously waiting to set out that afternoon with her companions as soon as the blastglobes were loaded on a pair of sure-footed mules. Ammon Jerro would accompany them and wait invisibly on the ridge. Neeshka and Grobnar were to hide in wait for an opportunity to slip into the water and place the blastglobes on the bridges, once the others and the Greycloaks defeated the enemy and were back safely on their side of the river. Zhjaeve and Elanee would treat the wounded and wait near Ammon Jerro as reserves, with Khelgar serving as a bodyguard for them all. Dee had considered Qara for the mission until her outburst. She told Casavir as they waited for the others to get ready, "I'm more inclined than ever to send the spoiled brat away, but now there isn't time, and we can't spare an escort for her anyway."

He replied diplomatically, "Perhaps she may still have a chance to prove herself when the enemy arrives."

She kissed his cheek and whispered, "You have more infinitely more patience than I do, love. I've had it with her, but for your sake she can stay."

Daeghun was waiting for them when they arrived. Dee's face lit up as she saw him. She slipped off Blossom and strode over to him and the archers with him. "Father, it is good to see you." He was out scouting so often that even with him at the Keep she could go days without seeing him.

Daeghun cut her off. "Save your greetings, you have little time. You will need to strike swiftly if we are to prevail." Casavir frowned. Surely there was time for a moment's civility to his daughter. Once this was finished, he planned to have a talk with his future father-in-law.

Dee, however, suppressed a sigh because she was Daeghun's daughter, and she knew he was right. There was no time for pleasantries. She became the Knight Captain addressing her scout. "Very well. What have you seen at the bridges?"

He told her the Greycloaks were already fighting by the first bridge, and he was sure there was a shadow reaver at the second. When he finished, he said flatly, "If there's nothing further, I will return to the Keep." He turned to leave then hesitated and added, "Guard yourself well, Dierdre. We can speak when you return."

She nodded. "Take care, father." As he and his archers slipped into the trees, she motioned Casavir and Sand on.

They joined the Greycloaks fighting a cluster of skeletons and ghasts led by two shadow priests near a deserted farm then fought another group of undead closer to the bridge. They were about to cross the bridge when Casavir spotted some movement down the road. He pointed and said, "That could be where their supplies the scouts reported seeing have been stored."

"Naturally we're going to investigate and destroy their supplies instead of getting on with blowing up the bridges then getting away to relative safety." Sand complained, but Dee knew in his heart he relished the exhilaration of the fight.

She grinned at them. "Didn't Kana say Daeghun saw a number of large crates? I've been thinkin' what would an undead army with just a handful of living shadow priests need with so many supplies?"

Casavir raised an eyebrow. "What indeed. Come, let's have a quick look. If nothing else, we can blow up their supplies as well so the time won't be wasted. That's bound to hinder them."

They traveled off the road out of sight in the trees while the others waited with the Greycloaks. Once they climbed a hill overlooking the supply depot and lay on their bellies to spy on it, Dee counted ten rectangular boxes and whispered, "What do you think? Those look big enough to hold a body." Casavir murmured in agreement as he whispered an incantation to detect the presence of undead.

Sand whispered, "I fear you're right, dear girl. We should have brought stakes. But look, it appears they've foolishly left only two shadow priests on guard." They didn't need the stakes. Once Dee crept up and slit the throat of one surprised shadow priest and Casavir caved in the head of another with his hammer, it was enough to pry open the lids and expose the vampires inside to the sun. Sand was ready with a wand of lightning for two that managed to get more than a few feet away from the coffins, and Cillian mauled a third. They stabbed them through the heart to lessen their suffering when they could and doused the remains with holy water. Sand finished by summoning a _Gust of Wind _ to scatter their ashes because Casavir said he had heard somewhere that a vampire can regenerate eventually even from a pile of ash if that step wasn't taken.

At the Keep, at the very moment the fourth vampire was destroyed, Lord Nasher sat upright and looked around wildly. The young priest of Sharess who had been lying beside him to give him warmth sat up and checked his pulse then peered into his eyes. Nevalle, who was working at a small writing desk which had been brought there for him, ran to Nasher's side and took his hand. "What is it, Nash?"

Lord Nasher gasped, "I feel...as if an enormous weight was lifted from my chest. For the first time in days I feel I can breathe!" Nevalle threw his arms around him, and Nasher returned the embrace and gave him a kiss and stroked his smooth cheek. "I am still weak, but I believe I'm on the mend."

Nevalle gave him a long, soft kiss. "That's the best news I could have heard, my love. I've been worried sick about you. The only thing that will make this day better is hearing that the bridges have been destroyed."

The young priest stood and bowed to them with a smirk. "Excuse me, your Excellency, Sir Nevalle. I'll leave you two alone...for now. I'll go get you something to eat, and later I'm sure you would like a sponge bath."

Back at the river Dee surveyed the scene at the supply dump with giddy satisfaction. She gave Casavir a quick kiss and said smugly, "I 'spose they'll have a harder time controlling their army without their generals. Come on, let's get the others and see what's across the south bridge."

Once they fought their way past more skeletons and shadow priests to the bridge, however, they discovered not just any shadow reaver, but Black Garius himself. And not just him, but more skeletons, ghouls, and ghasts. Dee couldn't afford the time to glance behind her to see if Ammon Jerro was close enough to read his scroll and activate the spell, but she prayed he was. Black Garius sneered at her. "You again! You've been lucky thus far, but know that I shall soon come to reclaim my former home."

Dee asked herself what it was about shadow reavers that made them compelled to taunt their opponents. She muttered, "Yeah, yeah, after you've added my corpse to your undead army, I've heard it before. The Keep was never your home, Garius, and your things you left behind, including your collection of women's small clothes, were burned. The only home I'm sending you to is to the hells!"

He laughed derisively. "I shall have fun with your corpse, girl. My master has almost escaped his confinement. But even while confined he has the ability to grant vast power to his faithful. Behold and tremble." He smirked as much as a skull could smirk and gestured at the undead moving towards them. The creatures glowed briefly then grew to twice their size. "Farewell, Captain. I would say I look forward to our next meeting, but I don't think you're going to survive the day." He vanished, and the shadow priest shouted, "Kill them all."

Sand whispered, "Oh my. This isn't good." Dee realized with a sickening feeling that he must not have a spell to counter Garius's magic. Casavir stepped up beside her, and she whispered, "I'm goin' for the priest" and told Cillian to go for the closest skeleton. Suddenly she heard a whoosh overhead and flaming arrows streaked past them from the hill behind them and into the ghasts and skeletons on either side of the shadow priest. The arrows exploded upon impact. She didn't have time to look to see who their benefactor was, but she didn't have to. She only knew two archers who were as accurate with a bow, and she knew which of the two it was. She murmured, "Thanks, father," as she shouted the order to charge and bore down on the shadow priest.

It was just a matter of mopping up the remaining undead. Once Casavir ran up a road that curved around a hill and destroyed a skeletal archer, he waved at Dee, who was looking around in disbelief that there was nothing left to kill again. She waved back then put two fingers in her mouth and made the high shrill whistle of the crested swamp hawk, signaling Neeshka and Grobnar that it was all clear. Daeghun and his archers came down the hill to join them. She grinned at him. "I see you changed your mind about returning to the Keep, and arrived just in time."

He murmured dismissively, "Yes. It was...a father's instincts, and I was right."

She gave him a hug despite his discomfort at public displays of affection, and she noted that he wasn't as stiff as usual as he returned it. "Yes, you were. Thank you, father. Come, let's hasten back across the bridge so Sand can set off the blastglobes."

They sent the Greycloaks who had come with them back with the wounded and the dead (only two, fortunately) then took cover behind a boulder as Neeshka and Grobnar sprinted by and stopped up their ears. There was a huge explosion followed by a succession of smaller explosions that made the ground shake and caused a tree to topple. Sand sashayed by calmly encased in a sphere of shimmering energy. Once it was over, they cheered and exchanged giddy hugs all except for Ammon Jerro, who stood apart with his arms folded across his chest glowering at them, as if defying them to try to hug him. Not that any one would consider it but Dee and Neeshka, who had both finally forgiven him once they got him to admit his responsibility for Shandra's death and he asked his granddaughter's spirit for forgiveness. Dee gave Cillian a hug instead and took Casavir's hand. "We've bought some time. Come on, let's get back to the Keep and celebrate!"

They arrived just after sunset as Selune was rising in her glory, and were met by Kana and Sir Nevalle. Kana scoffed at their concern about facing giant-sized skeletons, but the giddiness was contagious. "Come, dinner is ready. You must all be hungry." Dee realized as her stomach rumbled she was as hungry as a bear in springtime and about to follow them in when Casavir put his hand on her shoulder and stopped her.

"What is it, love?" Cillian turned his small brown eyes on him and chuffed with annoyance that they weren't following the others inside where there was always a large tub of tasty food beside the Captain's chair for him. She patted the bear and nodded for the guard to let him in then repeated her question. The look on Casavir's face drove all thoughts of hunger from her.

Casavir took a deep breath and looked as if he was trying to work up the nerve for something. "There has been something troubling me of late, my lady. I wish to speak with you privately, somewhere without interruptions. I was thinking we could go up on the wall. We could observe the troops, but there is little chance of our being disturbed."

She took his arm, a bit nervous at his tone. What could be _troubling_ him, unless he had come to the conclusion that Tyr's will was for them to part. But she searched and didn't read that in his beautiful blue eyes. He was nervous, but that was all she could read. "That's true enough. We have precious little privacy even in our chamber. Very well, lead on, love." They saw Bevil and Katriona in the distance, who waved like they were trying to get their attention, but they quickly went up the stairs with Casavir almost pulling her along.

Of course even on the wall finding a quiet corner was easier said than done. But they walked on until they were out of earshot of the closest guard, and she had to admit it was beautiful there with the full moon casting a soft light. What he had to tell her took her breath away. He took her hand and told her all his doubts about them being together were gone. Instead of what she feared he thanked her for making him stronger and for helping restore his faith. He told her he could now see the good in feeling something for another. She knew what he meant, someone other than Tyr. He no longer feared he would have to choose between her and his god. She was about to throw herself into his arms around him and suggest they continue in their chamber. But just then Bevil and Katriona appeared on the landing. Casavir sighed and took her hand. "I long to finish this, my love. But you are the Captain, and that must come first even before our needs."

She let out an exasperated sigh. "I know, and I want you to finish. Your words are what I've been longing to hear."

Bevil looked from one to the other as they reached them. "Are we interrupting something?" He blushed crimson, and Katriona did likewise, knowing from the way they stood and the expressions on their faces that they were, and knowing themselves how precious the moments were that the two of them managed to find together.

Dee and Casavir said in unison, "No, it's alright," then looked at each other and laughed.

Bevil's face betrayed the same nervousness Casavir's had when he first asked her up here, and he rubbed his neck and looked at the ground. "I...um...it's just that..." Katriona nudged him with her elbow and steeled his resolve. He swallowed hard, gave Katriona a 'yes, dear' look, and blurted out, "We decided...I mean, we've been talkin' about getting married."

"That's wonderful news!" Dee knew that they spent quite a bit of their spare time together, but she hadn't guessed they were this serious yet. Casavir offered his congratulations as well but looked like he wanted to add, "Now if you don't mind..."

Katriona took control and blurted out, "We decided to do it tonight, before the battle." She looked to Bevil for confirmation.

Bevil gave her another 'yes, dear' nod. "Anyway, the Widow Jons and Jalboun were married this afternoon...So I guess she's not the Widow Jons anymore."

Dee said absently, "I didn't even know they were seein' one another."

Bevil nodded. "He's goin' to help her run the festhall after the war." Katriona frowned and nudged him again to get him back on the subject. "Anyway, to celebrate she and her girls are marryin' a few folks in her shrine at the festhall before the battle. We're heading there now, and we heard you got back and we wanted to ask if you two could stand up for us. You're the closest thing we have to kin here."

Casavir said, "We would be honored, that is..." His eyes twinkled as he smiled at Dee, took her hand again and dropped to one knee. "That is if you two would do the same for us. We could even have a double wedding." He blushed, not being this impulsive by nature. "That is...I know you had your heart set on a formal wedding in the fall, but will you marry me, tonight?"

Dee chuckled. "Love, _Nevalle_ had his heart set on a huge formal wedding." Just last tenday he had shown her the magenta silk he had selected for the undergown. "But we can always make it up to him later with the huge wedding of his dreams." She no longer thought that was likely, but she pushed that thought to the back of her mind and smiled down at Casavir, deciding to live for the day. "Yes, I will, but you're a step ahead of me. You've already thought of your vows."

He laughed. "I have indeed, if I can remember what I said." He stood a bit stiffly. "We will meet you two there in a few minutes. If you don't mind, my love, could I take a few minutes to get out of my armor and sponge off?"

She had to admit they both reeked of sweat, blood, and ichor. "Good idea. Bevil, Katriona, we'll meet you there, but if you help us, it won't take but a few minutes." She threw herself into Casavir's arms and gave him another happy kiss, and then they scurried for the stairs. On the way down she Wolf to tell her companions having dinner and to find Daeghun.


	38. At Least They Were Married

Chapter 38 At Least They Were Married

Usual disclaimers: The characters are owned by a lot of people and not me, with the exception of a bear and paladin-lovin' ranger and an occasional NPC.

Once they reached their chamber, Bevil and Katriona helped Dee and Casavir unfasten the buckles so they could remove their armor and store it on their armor racks. Since Dee had been wearing her elven chain shirt and a coif, she was out of her armor first. Though there was only a skeleton staff remaining at the Keep, the wash tub had been half filled with lukewarm water with two extra buckets alongside waiting for the Captain's return. Dee stripped off her gambeson and boots then dropped to her haunches beside Casavir's chest and chose his forest green doublet and black trewes. She held them up, looking at Casavir quizzically. Katriona thought how the two of them looked and acted like they had been married forever.

Casavir nodded as Bevil unfastened the last strap on his breastplate. "Yes, thank you, my love. I was thinking of wearing that too. Perhaps I should take one of the buckets and wash in the solar to save time?" Dee pulled out clean small clothes, socks, and a fine linen shirt and added them to the pile. Bevil and Katriona didn't look as if they had any intention of leaving though Bevil looked uncomfortable and suggested they wait in the hall when Dee put the screen between the tub and them.

Dee handed Casavir a stack of towels and washcloths. "Mrs. Fairfax's room is empty. You could wash and change there and it wouldn't be as hot."

"Good thinking, love. I'll be right back." Casavir gave her a peck on the cheek, picked up the bucket and looped his weapon belt over his shoulder. Dee handed his clean clothes and his good boots to Bevil, who took that as his cue to follow. Once the door shut she quickly stripped off her clothes, which were still damp with sweat, and bathed using the rosemary soap Casavir loved as she and the woman she realized she didn't know very well, but who was about to marry her oldest friend, made small talk. Katriona, serving as a lady's maid, poured the last bucket over her head then handed her a towel.

As Dee dried off a loud, stacatto knock sounded at the door, and Neeshka shook the latch and wailed impatiently from the other side, "Deeeeee, what's going on? Wolf said you're getting married? Tonight? Let me in!" Katriona rolled her eyes as she opened the door for her and explained, eliciting excited squealing and hopping up and down by the tiefling.

Dee threw open her trunk and tore through the contents, regretting giving away her best bodice in a maudlin moment. She considered the black one, but it was too hot for it even at night. The closest thing to a gown she had was the white linen robe Sand had bought her for her trial. She held it up and considered it for a moment then shook her head and set it aside.

Katriona, who had been standing leaning against the table with her arms crossed waiting with restrained impatience, suddenly became very interested as Dee examined the white robe. She walked over and rubbed the fabric between her thumb and index finger. "You're not going to wear this? What a fine weave. It's a very simple cut, but the whitework embroidery on the sleeves and along the hem really makes it quite pretty. Brides in my village oftentimes wore plain white robes or gowns to their weddings, and a few wore only their best chemises. Our headman was a priest of Torm from the Moonshaes who brought the custom with him. He said white symbolized innocence and purity."

Dee shrugged as she laced up Casavir's favorite small clothes and Neeshka took over digging through her trunk, holding up things for her opinion. "Innocence and purity. I think that was Sand's intent when he chose it. Brides in West Harbor usually wore their best clothes. I knew a few who bartered their handicrafts they had worked on all year for cloth when a merchant passed through so they could make themselves a special dress to set aside for their weddings, but that was rare, and even then it wasn't for wearin' one time only, just somethin' new. Most Harbormen were too practical. Last wedding I went to, the bride was helping with the cooking for the wedding feast and forgot she was wearing her apron when it came time for the ceremony, so she got married in it. She said, 'So what, 'tis my good apron.'" Dee chuckled at the memory.

Katriona was still looking longingly at the robe as Neeshka handed Dee her black silk leggings and a long green tunic. Dee noticed Katriona's expression as she wiggled into the leggings and her sergeant's words (and the hint implied) seeped into her brain past her preoccupation with getting herself dressed. "Would you like to borrow it?"

Katriona gasped in surprise. "Me? Wear it? Oh yes, but I don't have time to change," though a heartbeat later she began stripping off her sergeant's uniform.

Neeshka helped her put it on and observed as Dee tied the lacing on her tunic, "Green and black. You're going to match Casavir."

Dee ran a brush through her wet pale hair, twisted and pinned it into a small, messy bun. "No time for paint," she replied firmly to a disappointed Neeshka, who had pulled out Dee's paint box as Katriona was adjusting the belt on the robe and draping it so she, being was several inches shorter than Dee, could walk without tripping. But Katriona was astonishingly voluptuous out of her armor though she had the hard-muscled arms and shoulders of a warrior, and her curves took up some of the slack in the gown. Dee pulled on her dress boots and strapped her sword belt back on to comply with her decree that no one set foot outside their chambers unarmed. She paused and looked at herself in the mirror, loosening the lacing on at the neck of the tunic and wishing for more cleavage but deciding it would have to do.

Neeshka pouted. "Oh come on, at least let me put some kohl around your eyes. Your lashes are so pale. It won't take me but a minute. Then let me borrow it. I think Bishop stole all of mine."

Dee glanced at Katriona, who was still examining herself in the mirror and adjusting the robe, loosening the drawstring at the neck so she could wear it off her shoulders. "Oh alright, just a bit."

They sat at the table on either side of the tiefling with Dee's paint box in the middle. Neeshka deftly drew neat black lines on Dee's eyelids then did the same for Katriona and added a touch of red to their cheeks. She pulled a few tendrils loose from Dee's bun so they hung down around her face. Dee glanced at the door as she removed her spectacles, trying to decide whether the occasion warranted the vanity of going without them. "I wonder what's keeping the men? Surely he didn't take longer to dress than I did." She folded her spectacles and put them in their case on her dresser as vanity won out over practicality.

Just then in answer to her question she heard Nevalle's voice from the next room through the fireplace responding curtly to a knock, "Yes, what is it?" Whoever he was talking to was still on the other side of the door. She heard him say after a minute, "Very well, I'll be there presently, but don't wait on my account." Dee realized Casavir must have gone to let Nevalle know. She smiled thinking how lucky she was to get such a considerate man who remembered to make sure Nevalle didn't feel slighted. Just then Bevil knocked on their door and announced they were ready.

Dee grinned at Katriona as Neeshka stained her lips crimson. "Are _we_ ready?" She was struck as she watched Neeshka finish Katriona's face with a dusting of white powder by how much her sergeant reminded her of a delicate porcelain doll she had seen for sale in the Merchant Quarter. She bore little resemblance to the hardened warrior who entered the room a short time ago.

Katriona shook out the folds of the robe a last time and reluctantly strapped on her sword belt. "Oh I've _been_ ready for a tenday." Neeshka clasped her hands, uttered one more long high-pitched squeal and added a hop for good measure.

Dee leaned close to Katriona and whispered, "I was thinkin'...my housekeeper's room will be more private than your room in the barracks if you want to stay there tonight. Bevil knows where it is." This was welcome news because the female sergeants all had private rooms since there were fewer of them, but Bevil shared his with another sergeant, and the interior walls in the barracks were deliberately built thin to allow the sergeants to listen for anything going on at night that shouldn't be. With the farmers and others who stayed behind moving into the Keep proper, private space was at a premium, and this was the most welcome wedding present the Captain could have offered them.

Katriona blushed and whispered back as Neeshka opened the door, "Thanks. I'll tell Bevil. That way I don't have to worry about us waking Light-of-Heavens sleeping in the next room." She had a good working relationship with her fellow sergeant, but she was convinced after a few tentative conversations about men in general (being too shy to mention Bevil specifically) that the aasimar was completely asexual.

Bevil stared in astonishment as they walked out and stammered, "Kat? I...I hardly recognize you. You're beautiful!" He flushed, realizing too late how that might have sounded. "I mean, you're beautiful, you've always been beautiful, but now you're even more beautiful..." He flushed crimson but wisely shut up after she muttered a terse "thanks" before he dug himself in deeper. He took her arm and led her to the stairs.

Dee noticed that Casavir had taken the time to shave too. He put his arms around her waist as she put hers around his neck and pulled her close kissing her softly. He drew back and looked at her, his eyes shining with love. "I must concur with Bevil. You define beauty, my lady. Shall we?" He offered her his arm, which she took, leaning close and nuzzling his smooth cheek. As much as she wanted him to grow a beard, she loved how soft his face was right after he shaved. Though he had washed, enough of his particular scent remained behind. To her he smelled like a man should smell, and she took a long, appreciative sniff as they walked down the stairs.

Sir Nevalle stepped out of Lord Nasher's room as Neeshka shut Dee's door, fastening the button on the top of his doublet. Neeshka slipped up to him and seized his arm, her tail waving saucily as Nevalle glanced moodily once more at the door he had just exited. She grinned up at him. "I guess that makes you my date."

Nevalle grunted. "Indeed. So it seems." While the news that the bridges were destroyed was a most welcome relief, this had not been the best of evenings. As he expected, Lord Nasher had thoroughly enjoyed the attentions of Leather, the boy from the festhall, who came back from the kitchen with his shirt open to the waist, showing off his smooth, taut body. He flirted shamelessly as he fed Lord Nasher soup, being so bold as to lick off a few drops that ran down his chin. When Nevalle returned from meeting with the Captain and Kana, the boy was giving Nasher a sponge bath, and Nevalle had to remind him (and Nasher) that their lord was still weak from his ordeal.

He hadn't realized how annoying the boy's prattle about Sharess was, distracting him from going through documents the courier had brought from Neverwinter, until that moment when he wasn't on the receiving end of his ministrations. The final straw was when Nasher called his name to get his attention and broke his train of though as he had nearly finished a tedious report. He asked, "Gilles, doesn't Leather look remarkably like you at nineteen?" Nevalle was nearly apoplectic with jealousy, though he wasn't altogether sure of which one he was more jealous.

He certainly didn't need the reminder that he was no longer young. While he knew he was considered handsome and could have his choice of lovers, his hair was thinning, requiring a regular visit to a discreet hair stylist who could cast a cantrip to fill in the bald spot at his crown and restore its golden luster. If not for constant training he suspected he would by now have a paunch like his elder brothers. And he had a few lines etched across his forehead and around the corners of his eyes from too much fighting in the sun and too much worry about Nasher that the smooth-browed boy was free of. He knew it was his own fault for summoning him to care for his Lord, his love, knowing perfectly well Leather was his type. Had he made the mistake of introducing his replacement? Would Nasher do that to him after all they had been to each other?

If Torio Claven had still been at the Keep he would have sought her out and consoled himself in her company. It was rare that he met a woman he could truly share his feelings with like he could with her; he realized then how much he missed their talks and games of chess. He supposed he even missed the sex. He had half a mind to marry her if Nasher agreed to a political marriage alliance. It occurred to him that she would serve as the perfect comeuppance for his mother as well. The only problem was he knew he didn't love her, he loved Nasher, and he knew himself well enough to know he could never be content with or faithful to any woman. He had decided he needed to stop brooding, to get out of this room and away from the two of them stretched out on the bed whispering and looking in his direction. As he was about make an excuse that he wanted to view the troops from the wall so he could go for a walk to clear his head, Casavir knocked at the door and gave him a better excuse to escape.

He was contemplating going to stay in his tower tonight to put more space between them as he and Neeshka were about to walk away when the door was opened by Leather, who stood off to the side not meeting his eyes but murmuring "I'm sorry," as Nasher called from his bed, "Gilles, my dear...you are coming back soon?"

He hesitated only for a moment, the time it took for his jealousy and resentment to evaporate like a puddle of water at highsun on Midsummer day. "Of course, Nash. I shall return as soon as I have done my duty to my cousin."

Neeshka poked him with her tail and jerked him towards the stairs, showing, in his opinion, a vulgar lack of deference for his rank and station. She growled, her eyes glowing like hot coals, "Come along, we're going to miss it!"

When they arrived at the festhall, the small shrine in the basement had been set up outside because so many of the Keep's residents had gathered as word spread like wildfire. It was a beautiful late summer evening though, and the silvery light cast by the full moon was bright enough to read by, as if Selune had forced back the gathering gloom just for this night.

Wolf had met with mixed success in locating their company. Dee was happy to see Daeghun next to Elanee and Naloth, Cillian, and Sand. Khelgar was near them standing in the middle of a semi-circle of Ironfists, including Khalia the Red, who stood just off his right shoulder watching their king like a warrior sizing up an opponent, which to was the same look a dwarven woman had as she considered a man as a partner. As they passed them Dee detected the slightest shift in Khelgar's eyes in the dwarven woman's direction in acknowledgment. Zhjaeve was sitting cross-legged on the ground next to the Lizardmen's shaman, both curious to observe the human ritual. Grobnar was already providing atmosphere strumming his lute softly accompanied by the girl who had recently become his protege. Ammon Jerro was also there though standing apart from the others, his arms folded across his chest and wearing his perpetual scowl. Qara also stood apart looking bored, but Bishop was nowhere to be seen.

Kana did a double-take and ran over to give Katriona an uncharacteristic hug as they walked up and exclaimed that she nearly hadn't recognized her. Dee noticed those of Wolf's crew who hadn't evacuated in the back trying to look inconspicuous along with the rest of her off-duty 'Cloaks and household staff. Orlen and his sons were there with them. Maisie, formerly Jons, and Jalboun were absent, but that wasn't surprising since they had been the first ones married that afternoon. Instead one of the other entertainers, one of the twins from Cormyr, was acting as the Celebrant and had just finished the ceremony for a Greycloak, who married one of the cooks. The young priestess was waiting at the altar dressed in a flimsy sheer deep purple robe that matched her hair (which had been colored with a _Paint_ cantrip courtesy of her sister), smiling at them and beckoning them forward, while her sister sat on a large satin cushion acting as scribe with a tablet of hemp paper and an enchanted quill which took down her words.

As they were approaching the altar, Brother Ivarr, followed by one of his acolytes, trudged across the street carrying a small stone symbol of Tyr on a folding table. He jerked his thumb at Casavir as he addressed the young priestess. "If you don't mind, _Sister_, this lad is one of ours, so I'll see to marryin' him and our Captain."

Bevil and Katriona went first while Brother Ivarr set up his makeshift altar. Dee and Orlen came forward and stood as witnesses for Bevil, swearing before the gods his name, age, and eligibility for marriage and then signing on the parchment, while Kana and Casavir performed the same service for Katriona. The priestess looked down at her list to make sure she hadn't forgotten anything then barked, "Vows!" Bevil jumped, then took Katriona's hands and flushed again. "Kat, I love you with all my heart and soul. You are everything I could hope to find in a wife. That's about it."

Katriona smiled as she stroked his hot cheek. "Bevil, I vow to take you with all your strengths and faults just as you are, as I offer myself to be yours with all my strengths and faults, just as I am."

Dee nudged Orlen and whispered that Katriona sounded like a Harborman already. The priestess raised her hands to the sky invoking her goddess and called on the community to bear witness to their love for one another. Everyone cheered heartily, and with a giggle she pronounced them husband and wife. "Now kiss!" It was more a command than a request, but they didn't appear to mind. They shared a passionate kiss before accepting hugs and congratulations for a few minutes then stepping aside so Dee and Casavir could take their turn when Brother Ivarr cleared his throat loudly and announced he was ready.

Brother Ivarr motioned them forward then had them kneel before the symbol of Tyr. He delivered a brief sermon during which he admonished them to strive to build a home together founded on love, compassion, and understanding, and never to let the day end while there was yet anger or resentment between them. Bevil, Neeshka, and Daeghun came forward when called and stood witness for Dee, and Khelgar, Nevalle, and Katriona did the same for Casavir. Brother Farrin then had them sign the certificate, which he said would be copied for them later, with the original being stored in the temple archives. Cillian broke away from Elanee and came up and nuzzled Dee as she finished signing, and Casavir leaned over and whispered something that caused her to elbow him lightly in the side and exclaim, "That was bad!"

Casavir had rejected his grandfather's family name when his grandfather rejected him, just as his father had done years before when he took the working-class name 'Carver,' which was better suited to the village of stone workers where he chose to raise his family. Since Casavir's induction into the _Order of the Knights of the Merciful Sword,_ he had been known simply as 'Casavir of Tyr.' While he and Dee had talked about creating a new family name, they hadn't found one that suited both of them, so they signed the names they had used for years.

Brother Ivarr commanded them to kneel again for the exchange of vows. They clasped hands and turned to gaze into each other's eyes. Casavir remarkably remembered nearly every word he had spoken to her on the wall. Dee mused wryly that he must have rehearsed his words so much while he was working up the nerve to give voice to them that he had committed them to memory.

On the other hand, Dee had only had less than an hour to think of hers. She sent a silent prayer to Mihil then turned her most dazzling smile on him. "Casavir, you are my dearest friend and my love. You strengthen me with your calm wisdom; I know much of the growin' up I've done since we met has been due to your gentle guidance. You refresh me like a cool breeze when I feel weary. You are my dream of a future. I love your laughter and your silly jokes that make me smile when I'm feeling the weight of my duty." She turned her head to address those attending. "Just now when Cillian came forward Cas leaned over and whispered, 'Perhaps Cillian wants to _bear witness_ as well.' You see what I have to put up with?" She turned back to face him gave his hands an affectionate squeeze. "But I must admit I love your puns. Oh Cas, I pray that our life together will be one of joy. I pledge my heart to you, to be as faithful to you as you are to Tyr."

Brother Ivarr nodded solemnly as she finished. "That will do. Now have you a token of the vows you have made that you would like to exchange?"

Dee looked perplexed, and when she met Casavir's eyes, she saw he had forgotten this part of the ceremony as well. She had been working on a silver dining dagger for him for the wedding in the fall but hadn't had time to fit it to the hilt. On impulse she pulled off the plain gold ring she wore on her left index finger and held it out to him in her palm. Casavir smiled and did the same as he had forgotten to ask Neeshka for the silver flask he had bought for her gift and had Neeshka hide. They slipped their rings on one another's index fingers, and the rings, which bore the same healing enchantment, flared red for a moment before they became plain gold bands again. With that, Brother Ivarr declared in his booming voice that could fill the temple on the god's day, "Let it be known that here at Crossroads Keep on this tenth day of Elesias, commonly called Highsun, Lady Dierdre Farlong and Casavir of Tyr are married." They leaned closer and exchanged a chaste kiss.

Brother Ivarr smirked at the young priestess. "See, that's how you conduct a proper weddin' ceremony." He ignored her reply of sticking her tongue out at him as he turned to pack up his things.

After they stood Casavir pulled Dee close for another soft kiss then whispered, "Tenth of Elesias, three days before your birthday. At least I'll never forget our anniversary."

She chuckled, laying her head against his chest and looking up to meet his eyes. "As if you would ever forget. I know you too well, love."

Sir Nevalle was the first after Brother Ivarr to offer his congratulations, whispering to Dee after he kissed her cheek, "I'm going to hold you to that formal ceremony in the fall, cousin." With his duty to his kinsman fulfilled, he stepped aside for Neeshka and retreated to Lord Nasher's chamber.

Neeshka gave them affectionate hugs, not even flinching away from Casavir. Behind her came Daeghun, Elanee, and Sand. Daeghun clasped Casavir's hand and welcomed him then let Dee throw her arms around him, even returning the embrace. He drew back to look at her and swallowed hard, thinking how quickly she had grown from a little girl hunting for lizards under rocks in the garden to the woman standing before him, before he even noticed. Elanee, as if sensing his growing melancholy, lay a soft hand on his arm and led him away, knowing instinctively where his thoughts led—that in no time at all he would have to watch his foster daughter as well as her children grow old and die.

Cillian nuzzled Dee as she and Casavir ruffled his fur, understanding in animal terms that his bonded had formed a pack with the dark furred one, though he thought they had done that long ago during the cold time. He didn't understand the need to form a pack much less the need to do it twice, but he accepted it and him for the sake of his bonded.

About that time the priestess bellowed, "Next! Step aside!" and they went to stand next to Bevil and Katriona so the last couple could take their place before the altar. They exchanged brief hugs, and Katriona promised to return the robe in the morning.

Bevil pushed his thick unruly sandy hair back from his forehead and grinned at Dee. "I still can't believe we're both married." He looked at the ground. "I only wish Ma could have been here to see it."

Dee squeezed his hand. "I believe she's watchin' over you, Bev, and I'm sure she would've loved Katriona and welcomed her like a daughter."

Neeshka bounded over like an excited puppy and admonished, "You just got married! I can't believe you're still here! Why are you still here exactly? Don't you have something _better_ you could be doing?"

Casavir put his arm around Dee's waist, pulling her close. "Neeshka's right. According to Tyrran law, a marriage is not considered valid until it has been consummated." He flushed crimson as he added, "And I'm certain the same is more true of Sharessan law, if there is such a thing." With everyone blushing furiously now, they headed for the Keep proper at as fast a pace as was not likely to alarm the guards.

On the way up the stairs Katriona remembered that she was on duty the next morning, so she hesitantly asked if it wouldn't be better if she collected her uniform now. Casavir opened the door and stood aside for them to enter as Cillian pushed past them to stretch out on the rug. The shutters and heavy curtains that blocked out the heat of the day had been opened, giving them a spectacular view of the moon. The household staff had been busy in their absence, setting the table with candles and roses gathered from the festhall's garden, and their supper awaited them in covered dishes. The delicious smell washed over them like a wave as soon as they stepped inside, and their stomachs rumbled as neither of them had eaten since before they left for the bridges.

Dee took a big whiff. "I guess they figured we wouldn't be comin' down to supper." As much as she had wanted to gently push Bevil and Katriona out the door then throw Casavir down on the bed, the tantalizing aroma made her mouth water and distracted her from her other appetite.

Casavir was hungry too, but he would never admit it if she didn't first. "Indeed, they know us quite well. You must be famished, my lady...my wife." Katriona hastily gathered her things as Casavir pulled the cork from a bottle of sparkling wine and poured them both a glass. Dee kicked off her boots and watched Katriona looking around for something she had dropped and suppressed a sigh as she debated about whether they should ask them to stay for supper. She glanced over at Bevil, who stood by the door waiting for his bride shifting from foot to foot anxiously. Dee knew that a few hasty, clumsy encounters with Aime in the Starling's barn and one night when Dee let them borrow her room while Daeghun was away was the extent of Bevil's experience.

She caught the nervous glance that Katriona gave him as she fumbled with the pile of clothing, nearly dropping it again and guessed correctly that she had even less experience than Bevil. Dee took the bottle from the table and passed it to Katriona and walked her to Bevil. "Here's something for you two to celebrate with. Sorry we don't have extra glasses." They took the subtle hint that they should leave. Katriona muttered her thanks and handed it to Bevil as Dee walked them out the door and to their bridal chamber.

She returned and shut and locked the door and threw herself against it, muttering dramatically, "Alone, at last!" Casavir smirked at her. He had removed the covers from the porcelain serving dishes, revealing a supper of grilled trout and summer squash and potatoes. He had removed his boots and his doublet and hung it on the back of his chair. Dee walked over and filled their plates. She handed him his plate and gave him a kiss as he pulled the ties loose on his shirt to open it, smiling rakishly. She took a couple of big bites then set her fork down, pulled her tunic over her head and wiggled out of her leggings. She moved her chair closer and sat back down in her small clothes and picked up her fork. "Two can play that game, my love."

He arched an eyebrow and reached over to take the hand she wasn't using to eat with and entwined his fingers with hers. They ate silently for a few minutes, giving almost all their attention to quenching their hunger. Dee said between bites as she devoured her fish with about as much delicacy as Cillian would have, "This is so good. I _was_ starving, husband, and from the look of your plate, you were too." She chuckled, getting used to the newness of the term. "Husband.._.my husband._.."

He looked up from devouring his potatoes, his eyes twinkling merrily. "Yes, my wife?," giving her hand a squeeze then putting his fork down. He traced his hand across her skin along the delicate ruffled lace at the neckline of her camisole then sat back, pulling his shirt over his head and tossing it on the floor. "I believe it is your move, my love." He winked then made short work of the rest of his supper, leaving little behind for Cillian.

She distracted him when she raked her free hand through the dark hair across his chest, and he gasped as she stroked his leg from his ankle up to his thigh with her bare foot. Dee chuckled at his reaction. "Do you like that, husband? Just promise me one thing—that we'll never start callin' one another 'ma' and 'pa.'" She sopped up the buttery sauce with a piece of oat bread and wolfed it down as her foot caressed his thigh.

He wrinkled his nose in distaste. "That's an easy promise to keep, my love, but what's worse to me is couples who call one another 'mother' and 'father.' I detest that." Casavir shuddered as she reached a sensitive spot. He wiped his mouth on his napkin then lifted the lid from the last dish. "Blueberry cobbler. Would you like some?" He reached for the serving spoon, but his eyes betrayed his hope that she would decline.

Dee folded her napkin primly and lay it on her plate and leaned back smiling at him seductively. "Later, mayhap, when we've worked up an appetite. Or it could be breakfast too."

He chuckled. "I was hoping you would say that. Shall we?" He didn't wait for her to respond. In a flash he had disentangled himself from her leg and was up out of his chair and at her side. He offered her a mock formal bow, took her hand and kissed the back of it then drew her to her feet and took her in his arms for a long, passionate kiss. She put her arms around him and leaned into him, returning the kiss with just as much passion. He swept her up into his arms and carried her to their bed, where they wasted no time in fulfilling the terms of their covenant.

Nasher stirred and looked towards the fireplace, distracted from caressing Nevalle's shoulder and upper arm as his attention was captured by the creaking sound on the other side of it. "Do they realize we can hear nearly everything? That bed sounds as if it's about to break. Your cousin seems to be quite vigorous. It must run in the family."

Nevalle raised his head and looked towards the fireplace. "It _is _their wedding night, and they're at that blessed state where they're in love enough that they're still in lust." He lay back beside him, caressing his chest. "Pity you're not well enough that I can remind you how vigorous I can be."

Nasher turned his head and eyed the boy, who had been banished to the divan. "Perhaps you can yet, my dear."

Dee and Casavir kissed and lay back caressing one another for a few minutes until exhaustion overtook them and they fell asleep in one another's arms. Her sleep had hardly been disturbed by dreams at all since her talk with Brother Ivarr, as if giving voice to them was enough to drive the fears from her mind. She did sometimes awaken still feeling as if someone was watching her, but Sand felt she was probably right and not just being paranoid. He had promised he would research spells that would protect her from being scryed by Black Garius or the Luskans, for who else could it be?

But she dreamed this night. She and Casavir were eating at a picnic spread out on a thick green blanket covered with exotic symbols. Dee didn't recognize the terrain nor a few of the trees, but Neeshka was there along with a stranger who was handsome despite his unusual blue skin. Then she was running through a ruin calling for Casavir, but she couldn't find her love. The people she met were unable or unwilling to help. Cillian was growling at something she couldn't see. A loud pounding pulled her back from the dream, nagging at her until she heeded it.

She blinked awake. Cillian _was _growling at the door. Someone _was_ pounding at her door, and Casavir awakened too and sat upright as one of the guards shouted "Captain, wake up!"

She sat up squinting at the window at the position of the moon and replied, "What is it? It can't be much past midnight." Casavir reached over and raised the sides on the magic lantern, causing them to blink at the sudden brightness.

"Kana sent me for you. The scouts say the enemy is nearly here, Captain!" She could hear the near panic in his voice.

She and Casavir looked at each other, and she whispered, "How?" But there was no time to speculate how or when or why they hadn't been spotted until now. They were out of bed in an instant fumbling for clothes. She shouted through the door as she put on her spectacles, "Very well. Have Kana sound the alarm and tell her we will meet in the War Room. And send one of the other guards in here to help arm Casavir." The man's footfalls echoed down the hallway as he hastened away to obey her commands. She turned to Casavir as she pulled the tunic over her head, looking like she was going to be sick. "This is it, isn't it."

Casavir caught her into a fierce embrace. "I'm afraid so. Go on, my heart. I'll bring your armor bag to the War Room once I'm armed. But give me a kiss before you go." They shared a heartfelt kiss as if they might never be able to kiss again, then she and Cillian ran out the door with her boots under her arm.

Nevalle opened the door as she and Cillian stepped out, having hastily dressed and not even bothering with the disorder of his hair. He looked as if he had even less sleep then they had gotten. "I heard the guard. I'll help Casavir, then we'll be right there."

"Thanks, Gilles." She sprinted towards the stairs followed by Cillian as Nevalle entered her room and Leather followed him with Nevalle's own armor bag.

Jerro and Zhjaeve were already in the War Room when she arrived. She sat and pulled on her boots as Kana marched in. Neeshka walked in, looking like she hadn't slept at all, and plopped into a chair. A movement in the shadows near the rear door caught Dee's eye, and she recognized Bishop by his posture. What was he doing back there though? She told Cillian to stay at the table and walked up to him while she waited for the others to arrive. "You got here fast. Are you going to join us?"

He met her eyes for only a heartbeat before he looked away. "War is comin'."

Well that was obvious, but she resisted the urge to say so. "Yeah, it is. I could use your bow on the wall, Bish." He refused to meet her eyes, and she smelled that acrid smell again that made her wrinkle her nose.

He looked down as he ruffled Karnwyr's fur. "If you're smart, you'll get out before it gets here. I could get you out. We could get to somewhere safe."

She snorted. "You're not serious, Bish. Even if I could, you know I can't go anywhere, and I won't either. These people are depending on me."

He sneered and met her eyes as he put his hand on her arm. "Thesepeople. They're a weight around your neck, _Captain._ They're dragging you down. All your devotion to them is gonna get you is a grave and maybe a statue in the courtyard. I say we get out of here tonight. Leave this to his holiness. He's the martyr. I...I don't want to see you die."

"Don't call him that!" She scowled at him as he cursed in response. "I know you hate him, but Cas and I were married tonight. I won't have you insulting my husband."

"Married?" For a heartbeat he looked as if she had struck him, and then he recovered his air of disdain. "Congratulations, sweetheart. Looks like a marriage that's going to be more executed than celebrated though."

Dee wrinkled her nose again. Suddenly she knew what she smelled—fear. She suppressed a sigh. "Bish, get away, far away, and save yourself then. As for me, yeah, I'm scared, but I've come to peace with my destiny."

She turned her back on him to walk to her place at the table, offering him a tempting target. His hand slid to the hilt of the dagger she made him where it rested for a heartbeat. Not that he was going to get her out, even if he could set ten yards outside the Keep before the Geas overtook him. No, that was a dream. He had thought he could take her to Garius, though a small part of him hoped she would have smiled at him and let him lead her away. She might be payment enough for Garius to let him go. But she wouldn't go willingly; she would have to be unconscious or dead. He cursed again and was out the door before any more of the fools arrived. He had found a place to lay low until it was time to make his move. He had only one more task for Black Garius, and he would be free, and he knew after his inspection this afternoon just how to do it.


	39. All the Hells Break Loose

Chapter 39 All Hells Break Loose

Usual disclaimer: The characters in this story are owned by a whole lot of people and not by me, except for an occasional NPC and a bear and paladin-lovin' ranger. Some of the dialog in this chapter is also loosely paraphrased from the NWN2 OC.

As always, reviews and constructive criticism are greatly appreciated.

Khelgar sat cross-legged on the floor chanting with his eyes closed, though to the casual observer, the ancient guttural sounds he intoned might have been mistaken for snoring if not for the alertness in his posture. Sand dragged himself into the room looking utterly exhausted. His robe was askew because it was buttoned wrong, and his usually neat hair hung loose in his face. He pulled the stopper of a bottle holding a potion that neutralized poisons, or in this case, overindulgence in spirits, and drained it then handed another one to Neeshka, who moaned softly in acknowledgment, her head laying on the table and her eyes tightly closed while her tail lashed in agitation.

Dee walked away from Kana and one of the scouts and addressed Sand quietly, putting her arm around his shoulder to lead him aside. "My first inclination was to have you with us, but now that I've gotten Kana's report...I think you should take the time to be sure of your spells and help Aldanon work on decoding that damned tome, my friend. From what Kana just told me, they're coming with siege towers, and the best bet is to blast them to the hells from the curtain wall and try to hold out for dawn."

Sand kissed her cheek then drew back and smirked at her. "I must say this_ is_ a surprise. Usually your singular attention comes with such deadly consequences, my dear Captain. Yet I find I can't honestly say whether I'm relieved or disappointed. Perhaps I've discovered some new emotion? Very well, but I shall remain nearby in case you need me." He sat down with less than his usual elven grace and waited for the potion to take effect.

Casavir and Nevalle arrived fully armored, Casavir in his new dragon scale armor and Nevalle in gleaming adamantine full plate. Hiram the cook followed them bringing a huge urn of coffee, which he set on the table next to a tray of cups and another of sweet and savory rolls brought in by one of his assistants. Casavir set Dee's armor bag next to her chair then took a seat beside hers. Dee took her cook's hand and shook it warmly. "Thanks for all you've done for us, Hiram. And now you and your lad better get below and wait for Wolf and his crew in case you have to evacuate. Sir Darmon is returning with more 'Cloaks from Neverwinter to get Lord Nasher to safety, and the lad knows the way to where they'll be. They won't likely arrive until highsun at the earliest though. I'm charging you to make sure everyone below is armed and armored, leather at the very least, in case you have to fight your way to them."

He ran a hand through his thick graying sandy hair and smiled sadly. "I will, Captain, and we'll be praying for you all." There was nothing left to say. He wanted to say, "And watch out for my boy," but he thought it wouldn't be right. Besides, he reminded himself, his 'boy' was a man and a soldier by choice, so it was time to let him go. He and his assistant left through a door hidden behind a tapestry that led to the kitchen and servant quarters.

"Is everyone here?" Dee glanced around. They were except Bishop, but that wasn't a surprise to anyone, not even to Dee anymore, though the ache of her disappointment only added to the sickness in her gut (which brother Ivarr had suggested was caused by an ulcer). "Kana, you may begin." She poured herself a cup of coffee with cream and another for Casavir, adding a spoon of sugar to both then let Casavir help her into her chainmail armor as Kana repeated what she had told Dee a few minutes before. Kana finished and turned the meeting over to Dee, who was gobbling down a cinnamon roll hoping it would staunch the rising bile. Casavir sat close with his arm around her shoulder, calling down his ability to calm granted by Tyr.

She took a big swallow of her coffee and wiped her fingers before she stood and looked around the room at her companions, smiling tightly at them. "The offer still stands for anyone who wants to get out." No one moved, nor did she expect them to at this point, though in her heart she still hoped Neeshka would listen. It was all she could do not to beg her to go.

"So be it. My lord Casavir will lead the first squad of Greycloak fighters on the curtain wall. Khelgar, I would like your Ironfists ready in the courtyard in case the enemy breaches the outer gate before dawn. Neesh, do what you do best if you can get behind any shadow priests. Ammon, Zhjaeve, I want you in reserve, ready to read the True Names scrolls if Black Garius or another reaver shows up. Elanee, I want you on the stairs near us to help get the wounded to safety and help the spellcasters. Grobby, I want you somewhere where the 'Cloaks can hear your songs and reap the benefit of your magic, and I'll also need you to have the construct close by in case they get past us and invade the Keep. But there's no room for it on the wall."

This was as everyone expected; her next choice was not. She turned to face the sorceress. "Qara, this is your chance to show us all what you've got. There will be other mages from Neverwinter helping us, but I would like you on the wall to concentrate on blasting the hells out of those siege towers. Sand is going to remain behind to light a fire under Aldanon."

Qara blinked in surprise then grinned smugly. "I knew it was only a matter of time before you realized how much more powerful I am than the hedge wizard." Sand ignored the gibe (though ten devastatingly sarcastic responses sprang immediately to his nimble mind) and poured himself a cup of coffee, knowing the truth was that this phase of the siege wouldn't require any particular finesse. Besides, if they survived this, which he wasn't altogether sure they would do, there was still the matter of taking the fight to the King of Shadows before he crossed over to this plane.

Dee added coolly, "Just blast the doors on the towers before they get close enough to dock, Qara. The scouts say that the towers are being pulled along by skeletons, so it's likely the intelligent undead are inside waiting to breach the walls once the doors are lowered. I'm having some of Grobby's blastglobes brought up there too. I'm going to the far end of the east curtain wall and target the towers there. Once we've stopped the towers, or once they've docked, use the rest of your spells targeting any shadow priests and vampires first. And be careful. Most of the vampires we've encountered are mages or monks, and the clerics will probably attack with death magic."

Qara replied ominously,"You don't have to tell me how to fry undead. Just stay out of my way and you won't get hurt."

They climbed the stairs to the curtain wall after stopping at a privy to get rid of the three cups of coffee Dee drank (grumbling to Casavir that now she had a nervous bladder in addition to her nervous stomach), passing Greycloaks and Lizardmen warriors along the way who stood aside against the parapet to let them pass. Casavir directed the fighters to hold back waiting for the enemy to reach the wall, while the best archers lined up to fire at the towers and the skeletons below with arrows dipped in pitch and set alight. She nodded at Daeghun as she passed him, who nodded curtly in response. Wolf was with the archers below, ready to shoot flaming arrows from the murder holes. Brother Ivarr, looking magnificent in full dwarven mithril plate etched across the chest with Tyr's symbol, brought up a basket full of vials of holy water and passed them out to the fighters to hurl at the undead and to pour over their weapons.

Qara wasted no time in hurling a fireball at the nearest tower and followed by casting a delayed blast fireball at it so she could run along the wall to attack another. Dee ran to the far end, nearly dropping a blast globe as she picked it up because her hands were shaking. She cursed and took a deep calming breath then threw it for all she was worth and quickly followed up with another. Her first one fell short, but she knew it must have exploded among the skeletons pulling the tower by the way it lurched to a stop for a minute. But as Ammon told her, skeletons don't feel pain and will follow their masters' orders even when engulfed in flames, until they become too damaged to continue. Thus the tower lurched again and made halting progress towards the wall.

The second blast globe exploded right inside the forward edge of the bay door of the tower, which was being lowered in anticipation of docking, and in moments the front of the tower erupted in flames. She threw another inside it, though she told herself there wasn't time with another tower approaching twenty yards down the wall. But there was a satisfying explosion a heartbeat later and the entire tower became engulfed in flames. An archer, Daeghun she guessed judging from the accuracy of his shot, sent a flaming arrow into the heart of a vampire who had jumped out, trying to flee the flames. Dee smiled as she heard Casavir's deep rumbling baritone beginning a song, _The Battle Hymn of the Evenhanded_. There was power in the song, and several 'Cloaks joined their voices to his in the chorus, drowning out the chaos on the wall for a few minutes.

They managed to prevent four of the towers from docking, but two in the middle were able to disgorge their reeking cargo of vampires, shadows, ghasts, and wraiths. Casavir ordered his fighters forward and he fought alongside them, trusting Cillian to guard his wife. His father-in-law traded his long bow for a matched pair of slender silver swords and stepped into formation beside him. It was difficult to fight in such close quarters though, especially when they faced wraiths, who could simply fly around them with dizzying speed. At Casavir's suggestion Dee had traded her short sword in her left hand for a light hammer, which was more effective against skeletons. The Sword of Gith responded as if it was an extension of her right arm almost without conscious thought on her part. But she found she was unable to use its shard barrier attack without risking having the fighters hit by the shrapnel as well as the undead.

And as Dee feared, Qara was being none too careful with her spells either. She and half a dozen Greycloaks and Lizardmen threw themselves to the ground and narrowly missed being hit by the ricochet of a lightning bolt that Qara cast at a vampire too close to the sentry tower, but three others weren't so lucky. Dee cursed because she knew the range of that spell. That was a careless, novice mistake, and what was worse, she knew Qara knew better. She just didn't care. Then another careless fireburst spell caused the remaining blastglobes to explode, throwing several Greycloaks to the floor. If there had been time she would have sent for Sand and sent the sorceress packing. "So much for giving her a chance to prove herself," Dee muttered angrily as she willed the shards of her sword to swarm a wraith.

Then as soon as the battle started, it was over. Casavir landed a hideous blow with his hammer to the back of a vampire's head, though that wasn't enough to destroy the creature until a Greycloak beside him stabbed it through its heart. They both spun looking for another target. Cillian finished disarming then beheading a ghast and reared up on his hind legs sniffing for more of the foul smelling creatures to maul. Seeing none, he began licking his wounds. Daeghun switched back from his swords to his long bow with fluid ease. Dee also circled looking for more undead through the hazy smoke of the ruined siege towers, and seeing none, set her sights on Qara instead, who was leaning against the wall with her arms crossed. She ripped off the blackened tatters of her tabard and stormed over to her. "What the hells were you thinking? In case you haven't figured it out yet, you're not supposed to murder your allies!"

Qara replied with a yawn and a dismissive wave of her hand. "So what? I warned you all to stay out of my way, didn't I? You should have turned everything over to me. But now I'm spent, so I'm going below to rest. The hedge wizards can clean up from here." Dee could have struck her. She replied with a vile curse that for once Casavir agreed with as he gingerly picked up a badly burned Lizardman and hustled him to the healers.

The horizon was showing the first promises of Lathander's rosy dawn as they met Kana and Sir Nevalle in the bailey. Dee sent Cillian back to Meilikki's care to heal his wounds then took a few minutes to focus on reforming her sword. The healers were tending the wounded and getting them to safety inside the temple. Dee quaffed deeply from a pitcher of water Casavir handed her as Kana finished her report. She listened to the casualty report and thanked the gods that few of her 'Cloaks or their allies had been killed, but the number with severe, potentially crippling injuries was sobering.

Something, many somethings from the sound of it, began pounding at the outer gate, and Kana sprinted over to find out what it was. Her lieutenant's brow furrowed worriedly as she spoke to a tower guard, no longer as dismissive of the threat of giant skeletons as she had been the night before. She shouted back, "Captain! Giant skeletons are trying to break the gate down with a felled tree, and I fear they might succeed before the Morninglord sends His holy light."

Nevalle scowled at the sky. "Yet it will be dawn very soon. Have courage, lieutenant."

Dee replied loud enough for her 'Cloaks to hear, "Then let us all pray to our gods that they urge the Morninglord on. These creatures fear the light. That's why Black Garius drives them on so furiously, but it won't be much longer until they roast in the sun."

Though her ring had healed most of her injuries slowly but surely, she was fighting exhaustion, and her limbs aching from two days of heavy fighting felt like they were encased in lead. But she was the Captain, so she shook it off and willed herself to go on, telling herself it was just a bit longer. Then they could rest. She drank a potion that Sand brought out to them, not even asking what it was. Some kind of analgesic she guessed, and after a few minutes she started feeling the stiffness leave her limbs. Casavir looked askance at her as she muttered that it might be a good idea for them to summon their own skeletal army to help stand guard so her 'Cloaks could get some much needed rest too. Luckily the Ironfists had been out of the wall battle, and like their king, they were spoiling for a fight, and Grobnar was standing by with the construct too.

Down below in the lower levels, in the parts of the Keep that had been part of an ancient Ilefarn structure, Lord Nasher and a few carefully chosen guards were waiting with Hiram the cook, his assistant, the remainders of Wolf's crew who hadn't evacuated, and the remaining household staff members. They looked at one another nervously, more than one fighting tears, but studiously avoided making direct eye contact with Lord Nasher. It was hard to tell what was worse to them—the waiting to escape, the fear of being drawn into the battle, or the forced confinement with one of 'the Quality.'

Hiram peered down a long corridor in search of the boy Wolf, who had gone scouting outside. One of the girls, who was officially one of the Keep's pages but spent quite a bit of time in the company and tutelage of the Chief of Security, watched beside him. She stiffened, reminding him of a cat who has spotted a bird, and Hiram asked gruffly, "Do you see somethin,' girl?"

Her hip twitched slightly as she cocked her head to regard him coolly. But he was alright. She knew he left cookies out on purpose for her to nick when she finished her rounds for Neeshka. "Name's _Zeta_, pops. Yeah, I think that's him beside that spider." She pointed down the hallway.

Hiram peered down the corridor again. He saw nothing, neither boy nor spider, but it was dark and he had the weakening vision of a man in his late forties, while she was in her late teens, he guessed, though she had a sweet, heart-shaped face that made her look younger. Otherwise the Captain surely would have sent her away with the others. He also observed one small pointed ear holding back her chin length dishwater-blond hair. "One of your parents must've had elvish blood. You must see in the dark because of it."

She smirked and muttered, "Yeah, umm sure," as Wolf got close enough that even he could make him out. He would never have guessed the truth, and she wasn't about to tell him. "Wolf, is it safe?"

Lord Nasher heard and came up behind them flanked by two of his guards and his new pet from the festhall. "What have you seen out there, my boy?"

Wolf bowed his head to the Lord of Neverwinter and tried to remember the correct form of address, which had been covered in one of the classes the Captain had insisted they take. "Lots of bad. A whole lot of skeletons, umm, _your excellency_, heading towards the main gate. I think I can get us around them if we're _quiet,_ but 'tis near dawn anyway so it might be safer to wait a bit longer. They haven't found the entrance to the tunnel, but then again it's pretty well hid."

Nasher replied with an exasperated sigh. "You are right, young man, so we will wait. But this waiting chafes at me when so many of my people are fighting and dying for Neverwinter. I should be out there in the fray, not skulking about like a common house-breaker. Let us move up closer to the end of the tunnel though so that when the time is right we can leave."

Up above them, one of the sentries on the wall-walk was peering down at the progress of the skeletons as the sky lightened, the clouds of smoke from the burning towers turning lavender and cerise. The guard looked at the sky then at the undead, murmuring "any minute now..." But nothing happened. He shouted nervously after the gloomy clouds were tinged with rose and orange, "Captain, the Morninglord's light has come, but they're not fleeing. None of them are! Not even the shadows and vampires!" A few heartbeats later he shouted, "And now some vampires look like they're getting ready to cast spells at the gate!" A series of fireballs exploding against the gate rocked the ground.

Casavir shouted as the smoke cleared, "They've breached the gate! Quickly, let us make our stand in the courtyard."

Dee ordered, "Yes! Everyone into the courtyard. We'll cover you! Cas, have them bring out all the wagons, crates, barrels, and anything that we can use to form a barricade and further reinforce this gate." She saw his breath catch as he heard her order, but he nodded and rushed off to comply. The 'Cloaks and their allies hurried inside as Dee, Khelgar, and Grobnar and the construct covered their retreat. The skeletons were holding back as if awaiting someone, and Dee hoped the power of the Morninglord was finally prevailing. They retreated slowly, not turning their backs on the undead.

A cluster of Greycloaks were gathered around the ropes and pulleys controlling the gate as Dee passed under it, looking up with concern and pulling in vain. She stuck her hammer in her belt and was about go over to ask what was wrong when she spotted Bishop, partly concealed in the shadows, motioning to her from just outside the gate.

Despite her fatigue her heart felt light and refreshed when she saw him. She grinned at him as she jogged over. "Oh Bish, you came back. You scoundrel you, I knew you wouldn't abandon us. But hurry, we're retreating inside."

He walked closer, meeting her eyes and speaking mechanically as if he had memorized his words, recoiling from the hug he sensed she wanted to give him as if from fire. "For what it's worth, you almost made me want to stick around. But that's not why I have to do this. Get back up on the wall...you just might live through this." He was alone, and it occurred to Dee then that she hadn't seen Karnwyr with him earlier in the War Room either.

"What? Bish, what are you talking about? What do you have to do? There isn't time, let's get inside!" She had to struggle to make sense of his words, but it was more than simply tiredness. It was as if her brain was refusing to acknowledge the words he spoke.

He looked away clutching his chest and grimaced as if in terrible pain then spoke as if he had to fight for each word. "Get your...skinny ass...back up on the wall! That gate isn't going to come down. Don't waste time trying to repair the mechanism. It was easier to destroy than I thought."

Dee gaped at him stupidly and repeated his words. "Destroy the mechanism? What the hells? Bish, what are you talking about? That's not funny!" But in her heart she knew he wasn't joking. There was something else in his words that nagged at her, as if there were hidden words between the words, but she was too tired to reason it out.

He gazed into his former lover's eyes again and discovered he felt almost nothing, just a slight twinge of guilt. He dabbed a speck of grit from one eye, and then it was gone. "You should know why, but don't flatter yourself that it's because you chose his holiness over me. I admit you were a good lay, but that's all you ever were. I'd have to do this even if I was still screwing you. It's simple. The road's always open to the winning side, sweetheart." With a last sickly grin he turned and sprinted away from her. Karnwyr came running out of where he had been hiding to join him.

She recovered her wits as, augmented by the final insult he cast at her, the enormity of what he had done finally sank in; he had not only betrayed her, but also sentenced everyone here to die, and for what? To save his own ass. She growled and reached into her boot as her anger flared to a murderous blue white and withdrew his skinning knife, the one she kept when she got it back from Marcus. She threw it hard at his retreating form. "Yeah? Well here's your knife back!" He was barely still within range of her throw, having slowed to throw his arms around Karnwyr, and he grunted in surprise and pain as the enchanted blade pierced his leather armor under his left shoulder blade, biting greedily as if thirsting for his blood. He met her eyes a final time knowing that if they met again, one of them was going to die. He twisted a ring on his index finger and vanished.

Casavir had spotted her talking to Bishop as they were setting a last few barrels in a wagon and had come up beside her without her being aware as she stood glaring at empty air in the spot where Bishop had vanished. It was as if she wasn't aware of anything at that moment, not him nor the advancing undead. She looked stunned. He advanced with Nevalle covering him, and they had heard just enough to know what Bishop had done. Casavir could guess what she was feeling. "Come, my love. We must make do with the barricade we've erected." She nodded sullenly and backed inside with them.

Greycloak archers loosed flights of flaming arrows at the two remaining vampires when everyone was out of their line of fire. But as soon as that threat was eliminated, the air shimmered as a dark portal opened and Black Garius appeared in the very spot where Bishop had vanished a few minutes before. Casavir whispered, "Garius must have used his creature to gain access to the Keep."

As if reading his mind, Garius said calmly, "And now Captain, my ally has done his work, so I will reclaim this Keep."

Dee was still seething from Bishop's betrayal, but her anger gave her energy, and right now she hated Black Garius more than she had thought herself capable of anyone. She snarled, "You don't listen very well, Garius. It's not your Keep, and you'll soon be joinin' your master in the hells."

He chortled with his hands on his hips then replied condescendingly as if speaking to a mentally deficient child, "My ally, I should say your _former_ ally, has told us all we need to know about this Keep's defenses." If it was possible for a skull to gloat, then he was gloating. "You don't know what you're up against, but then you never have. You don't understand how powerful my King is. He grants me tremendous power even from his prison." He gestured at a group of skeletons and ghasts, who also grew to three times their size. "As you can see, my creatures do not need fear the feeble light of dawn. Soon all Ilefarn will be in shadow, and you will serve my master after your death. As a footrest, I think."

As Zhjaeve and Ammon Jerro began reading the arcane names on their scrolls, Garius uttered a spell that caused the portal to flare to life again, and a towering monstrosity stepped out. It looked like a creature made of the void. It was living darkness, and it seemed to absorb all light and warmth and hope near it. He gestured towards it proudly as everyone stared in shock and awe at the monstrosity. "Behold my master's avatar. This is but a small taste of what you will face when he crosses over. But I am feeling merciful, Captain. Surrender now, and your death will be painless."

Dee and Casavir led the charge against the creature as Khelgar ordered the Ironfists to form a shield wall with the Greycloaks and take care of the undead trying to breach the barricade. They had left an opening right in front of the gate, which as they guessed, the nearly mindless undead used to achieve their goal of destroying anyone living, and were effectively funneled into a gauntlet. But others threw themselves up and over the barricade. Khelgar sprang to the top and ran nimbly around it smashing them with the Hammer of Ironfist. It seemed to anyone who saw him as if he found footing on the very air. Grobnar directed the construct to attack alongside the Captain then whistled a few notes and converted the sounds into a spell which helped the fighters hit their marks.

Zhjaeve and Elanee concentrated their offensive spells on the monstrosity, leaving Ammon Jerro free to complete reading the scroll. Sand hoped Qara was taking notice of what a real mage could do as he alternately used his spells to bolster his companions then attack the monstrosity. The sword of Gith seemed more alive than ever in Dee's hand. She could feel the shards in harmony with one another and with the one buried in her chest, singing with the desire to destroy their ancient enemy, and her heart joined their alien song. Their enemy soon weakened under their combined efforts and fell to one knee before it threw itself back into the portal to return to the King of Shadows.

If it was possible for a skull to express utter shock and incredulity, then that was the expression on Black Garius's face at that moment as he stared at the portal. He sputtered, "But...but...but how is it possible!" A heartbeat later he learned how as Ammon Jerro read the right name on the scroll and stripped away his defenses, Sand removed his protective spells, and a hail of sliver shards tore into him.

Dee chuckled darkly, and he saw the mad gleam of fanaticism in her eyes. "How is it possible? It's easy. _You_ don't know what you're up against. You see, I'm also a servant, of Fate, and ending the twisted existence of your master is my life's sole purpose. One that I've willingly given my life for."

Still muttering, "It's not possible," he jumped into his portal, which collapsed on itself. Once he was gone, the magic enhancing the undead dissipated, and first they returned to their normal size, and then one by one they burst into flames or crumpled to the ground. The rest of the undead army turned and ran for the cover of the trees trying to get out of the light, followed by a horde of angry Ironfists who looked and sounded not unlike a horde of angry hornets.

"Is that it?" Dee looked at Casavir in disbelief.

"It is, for now my love. Come, send a squad to harry them, and then you must get some rest."

A squad of Greycloaks led by Katriona and Ironfists led by Khalia the Red pursued them while another squad of Greycloaks led by Light-of-Heavens, the only one of the Keep's sergeants who looked serene rather than exhausted, began the clean-up, hauling the fetid corpses outside the wall to burn them along with the remains of the towers.

Down below, Lord Nasher peered out of the entrance to the escape tunnel as the girl watched beside him. She screwed up her pretty face in concentration then pointed with her chin to where Wolf scrambled down a boulder, nearly losing his balance. "My Lord! I think it's over! There's undead things running away from the Keep and 'Cloaks are chasin' them!"

Nasher slapped him on the back. "Good lad! And now that the enemy has been routed, I think it is best if we return to the Keep and await Lord Darmon there. However, that gives me one more task for you. I would like you to go to the rendezvous point and let him know that has transpired when he arrives, if he's not there already. Yet you should not go alone with the enemy still about. Guards, accompany him."

Wolf scratched his head. "No offense, my Lord, but I think they might make too much noise and give us away. I'll be faster alone. I'll go overland through the trees." He looked thoughtful as he peered through the group clustered behind Lord Nasher." Unless...Zeta?" The girl looked up and nodded.

Hiram frowned and stepped forward. "You kids need someone with meat on his bones in case you run into more of those things. That little dagger of hers isn't going to do much good against skeletons, and neither is your bow, lad." He hefted his cudgel and patted it lovingly. "Bertie, go back and throw on the stew pot. We'll have hungry 'Cloaks to feed. I just want to get back in time for me to make the Captain a birthday cake for tomorrow...as long as we're not evacuating."

Leather gave Lord Nasher an imploring look. "Please, my lord. I want to go with them too."

Nasher stroked his smooth cheek. "Can you use that flail? Very well, but be careful, beautiful boy. Nevalle will never forgive me if anything happened to you."

Their journey was short though marred by two encounters. The first was with a pack of skeletons who were wandering aimlessly through the trees, but which attacked as soon as one of them sensed living flesh. Wolf lost his sword when it got stuck in the ribs of a skeleton, but Hiram came to his rescue, blocking the creature's sword as it prepared to strike the boy and following up with a blow that sent its skull flying. Afterwards Wolf scouted ahead while they took a few minutes to rest and for Leather to bind their wounds. He had been gone only a short while when he came running back and whispered frantically, "I saw some people camped in the rocks over that ridge. They weren't wearing Neverwinter's colors and they're not 'Cloaks. I got a funny feeling about them."

Zeta looked around. "If we climb up that hill we should be able to watch them from the other side of the ridge. You think you can climb up there, pops? We'll go ahead. You two be quiet, alright?" She cursed herself for not nicking a couple of her mistress's invisibility potions and not being more diligent about learning to read magical scrolls as Neeshka had urged her to do.

Once Zeta and Wolf were as sure as they could be that there weren't any scouts up on the ridge, and they had backtracked and brushed away the others' tracks with branches, they lay on their bellies and crept forward and watched as the men, and a few half-orcs, got ready to break camp. They were taking their time, as if they weren't in any particular hurry or were waiting for something. At least one looked like a mage, and a woman in a knee length black robe and breeches they guessed was a cleric. One of the men had taken his glove off and was flexing his fingers, and Zeta stiffened. "I think that's a tattoo from a Luskan assassins' guild on the back of his hand, and see the teardrops tattooed on his face? That's how many he's killed!"

Hiram scratched his head and whispered, "How do you know? How can you see that? And what would Luskans be doing here in Neverwinter's lands?"

She whispered, "Trust me, I was born there. My ma..." Her breath caught. "Ma was a pleasure slave sent with the Luskan soldiers during the invasion. She was killed when they retreated...they left me for dead too. I escaped and stayed in Neverwinter. She used to tell me all the time what some of the guild signs looked like and to stay away from anyone with those teardrops under their right eye."

Wolf nodded and whispered, "Maybe they're looking for another village like Ember to practice on. I think we should hide until they pass."

Leather whispered. "They could be scouting for survivors to draft into their army or slaves to sell or even be waiting for pickings if the Keep falls. From what I've heard, it's what they're apt to do."

After Zeta had followed in the shadows and was positive they were moving on, they continued on their way to the clearing. Lord Darmon and his forces had just arrived. Hiram acted as their spokesperson and quickly told them what they knew of the siege of the Keep and about the Luskans they had observed. Sir Darmon muttered about missing all the action and sent a few Greycloaks back to where Lord Nasher's coach was waiting on the road then followed them with the rest of his Greycloaks back to the escape tunnel. But there was no more sign of the presumed Luskans, and he refused to send any of his 'Cloaks to search for them.

By the time they arrived back at the Keep, Lord Nasher had taken over the audience chamber and had received a report of the battle from Nevalle, who had also been close enough to hear Bishop's admission of treachery and informed his lord. It wasn't that he didn't trust the Captain to do it herself. Rather, he was trying to spare her the pain of doing it. Lord Nasher summoned his scribe and waited until he had set up his paper and quill on a writing desk, saying nothing but sitting pensively with his chin in his hand.

Finally he stood and said as he paced in front of the dais, "Issue a proclamation, copies of which shall be sent throughout Neverwinter and her lands. On this eleventh day of Elesias, the ranger who is known as 'Bishop' is charged with high treason and declared outlaw. Therefore, by my decree, the bounty for his live capture shall be five hundred gold crowns payable by our treasury upon his capture and delivery to Neverwinter. The bounty is to be halved if said person is brought to Neverwinter dead rather than alive." Dee was silent, but Casavir noted the determined set of her jaw, as if she was clenching her teeth to stop herself from crying, and he took her gloved hand and squeezed it.

Nasher continued after he sat back down in the Captain's chair, "I would like to hear your account of the battle on the wall, Lady Farlong, but I can see that you are tired, and we need to return to Neverwinter to see to its defenses. But before I go, there is something I would like you to have." He glanced at Sir Darmon, who brought him a small cherrywood box and opened it, revealing a silver rod lying within. "Take this when you go to face the King of Shadows. It is a rod that will allow you to bring your companions back from the brink of death. I regret that it has only a few charges left, but it may turn the tide in your battle. Now, have you had any word from Aldanon?"

"Nothing yet, your excellency." She hoped he couldn't hear the tension that made her voice crack. "Sand says he has a couple of theories though, so hopefully by tomorrow..."

He nodded grimly at her. "Yes, otherwise the shadow army will be able to regroup and will attack anew. Now, I know you are about to argue that you want to inspect this Keep and your troops and visit the wounded." She grinned sheepishly as that is exactly what she was thinking as he continued. "That is to be expected, and I will allow two hours for that purpose. But after that I order you and your companions to get some rest, and that includes you, Sand. Aldanon might even be more clear-headed if he gets in a nap. And if Aldanon has a breakthrough, you must be refreshed so you're ready to leave at once. Go on, Kana and Nevalle can handle things for now."

Dee was about to argue that Kana and Nevalle especially looked more tired than she felt, but she bowed to her lord. "Yes, your excellency."


	40. Everything Goes According to Plan

Chapter 40 Everything Goes According to Plan (but Whose Plan?)

Usual Disclaimers: The characters in this story are owned by a good many people and not me, except for a bear and paladin-lovin' ranger and an occasional NPC. Slight liberties taken with the OC.

Also the information on Realmsian astrology was obtained from the following site:

http:/realmshelps(dot)dandello(dot)net/index(dot)shtml

Nevalle followed Lord Nasher as he climbed into the darkened coach so they could enjoy a private farewell. He set his great helm on the thickly-cushioned bench and sat down beside him, nodding at a basket of food. "Have they given you everything you will need for the journey back?"

Nasher smiled at him. "Don't fret about my comfort. The seats are well cushioned and Vale's put an enchantment on the horses' shoes and the coach so that it will get us to Neverwinter by tomorrow morning at the latest." He took Nevalle's face in his hands gazing into his hazel eyes and smiled regretfully. "It is so very difficult to leave you again, my love, but duty calls us both." He leaned forward and gave him a soft kiss.

Nevalle returned the kiss and slipped his arms around him, hampered from drawing him into a tight embrace by their armor. "If Aldanon isn't able to find something by the time the enemy regroups...and with what Leather and that cook said about seeing Luskans lurking about..."

Nasher combed his fingers through his golden hair. "Yes, I spoke with the girl who identified the assassin, and she described the tattoo to us in detail. It does match a known assassin guild. The Luskans are testing our defenses or looking to exploit us while we're occupied with the King of Shadows. It could also be they're here to assess the threat to Luskan, if the Hosttower has finally realized there is indeed a threat. Unfortunately we don't have the troops to spare to run them down, and they know that. As far as Aldanon's progress goes, if he can't decipher that damned tome by the time the enemy regroups...there's no shame in abandoning this Keep and falling back to make a final stand in Neverwinter, though I doubt Lady Farlong will agree."

Nevalle replied sadly, "Indeed, I became convinced during the battle that she's quite resolved to becoming a martyr. If Aldanon is unsuccessful, I wouldn't put it past her to march off on her own to confront the King of Shadows in the field, alone if need be, but I'm sure with my handsome cousin by her side. I don't hold out much hope now for that wedding I've been planning for months for them."

Nasher gave him another soft kiss, and then a more passionate one followed before he drew back to gaze into his eyes. "I want you to know, Gilles, that I truly regret that I can't give you the wedding of your dreams. You certainly deserve it, my darling. I'm sorry that you must content yourself with living vicariously through your cousins." He gave him a final kiss and sat back against the seat. "We must part for now. Guard yourself and your handsome cousins if you can, and take care of our fair boy. He is so very naive."

Nevalle chuckled as he put his helm under his arm. "Indeed he is, but so _very_ fair. I would feel better if he was accompanying you rather than remaining here. But have no fear, I'll watch over him and observe the campsite rule—leave him in better condition than I found him."

He opened the door and stepped outside, making way for Sir Darmon and some of the Greycloaks that had come with him to squeeze inside, leaving their horses at the Keep. They needed everyone who could raise a sword to defend Neverwinter if the Keep fell or if Captain Farlong failed. Nevalle watched them depart. The driver strapped himself into his seat and put on a remarkable helm that was enchanted so that its visor was as transparent as glass, giving him protection from insects and debris. Nasher rapped on the wall, and the driver flicked the reins and spoke the command word that sent the coach flying down the road.

Dee and Casavir made a circuit of the Keep, examining the repairs that were underway during this lull in the fighting. Along the way while examining the wall they caught Qara staring down at the destruction her spells had caused with a wild, triumphant look on her face. She resumed her normal bland-as-pudding expression when she realized they were watching her and walked past them down the stairs without a word. They made a circuit of the wall then went down the stairs to the inner gate. Grobnar was standing on a box that was fastened to the construct's back and was undertaking the repair of the gate aided by Khulmar Ironfist, who perched along with Jacoby at the top of ladders. Dee heard the dwarf mutter about shoddy design if the mechanism could have been so easily sabotaged, and Jacoby agreed and promised they would figure out how to make it unbreakable. Grobnar promised the gate would be operational by morning.

They walked solemnly through the temple of Tyr along the line of cots filled with the wounded 'Cloaks, lizardmen, and Ironfists, trying to stay out of the healers' way. Maisie Jalboun, followed by one of the twins, swept by carrying a basket of fresh bandages. Dee didn't recognize her at first as she had traded her usual tight, low-cut frock for a plain, no-nonsense natural linen robe and apron and had her long curly blond hair wrapped around her head in another length of linen which kept it out of her face. Dee guessed she had borrowed the robe from one of the Tyrran acolytes. Still, Dee mused wryly how such plain garb only served to enhance her feminine curves.

None of the clerics had any healing spells left, so Brother Ivarr himself tended the most seriously wounded so Zhjaeve and Elanee could rest. They joined him in praying for a Greycloak who he feared wouldn't last the day, entreating Tyr to extend His grace to her. Dee added a prayer to Kelemvor to spare her if it wasn't her time. Nevalle found them there and waited until the prayer was finished. "Has it been two hours already?" Dee looked from him to Casavir incredulously.

He answered, giving her a bemused grin, "It has been more than two hours. I'll send word if the enemy regroups, but from my experience, they won't recover from this battle for days."

Dee put her hand on his shoulder and smirked at him. "Sure. Isn't that what we thought last eve after we returned from the bridges? Very well, Gilles, but after we get some sleep we're coming to relieve you and Kana."

He shook his head determinedly. "No need, Sand gave me one of his potions, so I sent Kana to bed, and she's relieving me in the morning. Lord Nasher wants you rested and ready to depart at a moment's notice."

She was about to argue, but Casavir linked his arm through hers. "Come, my wife. It appears you have been bested. I've seen this look in my cousin's eye on the playing field, and I can assure you this is not a battle you will win."

The fatigue didn't hit her until they reached their room, once they were free from the demands of duty. They closed the door and fell into one another's arms. She murmured against his chest, "I am very tired, but I don't think I can sleep. This is the weirdest sensation, as if I'm completely exhausted but wide awake at the same time."

Casavir kissed her forehead and reluctantly broke away to unfasten his weapon belt, and she followed suit. "Indeed, I think there was something in that potion Sand brought to us that gave us energy as well as soothing our pain. White lotus perhaps." Casavir kissed her softly again before he began removing his armor. "Yet sleep we must, my love. Lord Nasher is right. We're of no use to anyone if we're too tired to take the battle to the enemy when the time comes, and that goes for all of our company."

Their staff had been busy in their absence, once they were allowed back from the escape tunnel. The tub was ready, and a tray of simple food—a tureen of venison stew and a small loaf of yesterday's bread along with a few fresh apples—had been left for their return. Dee shook her head. "'Tis almost like nothin' happened! They all deserve bonus pay."

Casavir chuckled. "Taking care of their Captain like this probably helps them feel that their lives will soon return to some measure of normalcy."

Dee looked over at the hideous rug in front of the fireplace, devoid of bear. "I want to call Cillian back, but the poor love needs his rest too." She removed her armor then sat cross-legged on the floor and took a minute to focus on reforming the sword while Casavir removed his clothing. She ran her hand along the flat of the blade once she finished and whispered, "You and I are going to have to figure out our boundaries with one another, but not when I'm feelin' so tired."

Casavir looked up as he finished undressing and stepped into the tub. "Hmm?" He flushed when he realized she was addressing the sword and not him. In the back of his mind it occurred to him that he should be alarmed that his bride was talking to an inanimate object, but he wasn't surprised she could now sense an intelligent presence within the sword.

They washed quickly in the lukewarm water to remove the sweat and blood and wrapped in towels, ate quickly and mechanically, just enough to satisfy their hunger. They spoke little, both replaying the events of the past day in their minds. He longed to get her to talk about Bishop's betrayal, but he couldn't think of how to broach the subject without reopening the wound. Yet he knew that sometimes wounds must be opened to prevent them from festering. He offered a silent prayer to Tyr for wisdom for himself and comfort for his wife. She knew as well that Casavir was the last person in the world who would ever say "I told you so," but she suspected he was probably thinking it anyway. Who wouldn't? Finally, finishing with a long quaff of water and seeing that she wasn't eating any longer either, he stood and offered her his hand. "Come, let us try to get some sleep."

He pointed out slender blue bottles sitting on their bedside table as he took her hand and they walked to the bed. "It looks as if Zhjaeve stopped by and left us some of her sleeping elixir." He picked up a bottle and offered the other to her as he sat on the edge of the bed. She sat beside him and smiled wanly and tapped her bottle against his. "Cheers. Sweet dreams, husband."

They removed the stoppers and quaffed it down. He set his bottle down on the table and stretched out on the far side of the bed lying on his side. She looked at the bottle before she put it down and shook her head. "Why is it Zhjaeve's potions taste better than Sand's? It can't be as simple as a spoonful of sugar." She stretched out on the bed and gave him a kiss then turned on her side facing away from him. He slipped his arm around her waist, and she put her hand over his and pressed against him, embracing like old friends as they waited for sleep to overtake them. But they had underestimated the strength of Sand's potion, and sleep came slowly, especially for Dee.

It was in this quiet time in their darkened room when she was freed of duty and the distraction of conversation with Casavir that Bishop's words came back to haunt her. She replayed his confession over and over in her mind. Why was his treachery so obvious to everyone but her? How he must hate her to have taken such an extreme form of revenge. But he knew she loved her Keep and her people, so it was the perfect way to hurt her. How could he have hidden his hatred for so long? How long had he been plotting with Black Garius? She had been stunned by his betrayal, but the numbness began to wear off, and first one then a flood of hot tears ran down her face. She tried to hold them back and cried silently so she wouldn't disturb Casavir, but he had been lying there quietly fighting sleep while he sensed she was still awake, waiting in the chance she would want to talk.

He tightened his hold around her, slipping his other arm around her and turning her to face him. She buried her face in his chest as he stroked her back and kissed the top of her head. "Come on, my love. Let it out." When her shuddering sobs subsided, he turned and reached into the drawer and removed a soft cloth and lovingly dried her tears. He hadn't been at all surprised by Bishop's betrayal, though he had told himself all along that his suspicions were provoked by jealousy. Even now as she nestled into his chest his thoughts were tinged with jealousy because she still had some feelings for Bishop. But that was petty, and he silently chided himself as he caressed her back. He was certain of her love for him, and he had always believed it was to her credit that she could remain on good terms with her former lover.

He couldn't tell how long they lay together like that, but finally she gazed into his eyes and poured her heart out to him. He caressed her cheek as they lay side by side and listened to all her doubts about herself and what this said about her judgment, and her guilt that the Keep was nearly brought down because she wouldn't listen. She told him she could see now how arrogant she had been thinking she could change Bishop. But even now in her heart, she wanted to justify his betrayal.

"I keep goin' over his words, Cas. He was angry, and I could see the pain in his eyes. But then again, I think he really _was_ in pain, like it hurt him to talk to me. He kept tellin' me to get back on the wall if I wanted to live. I truly think he was tryin' to warn me. That's why he got my attention. Otherwise, why not just escape while he could once his dirty deed was done?" She hadn't told him about her conversation with Bishop in the War Room before Casavir arrived when he asked her to leave with him, but she did so now. "Why not escape then? He could have had several hours head start."

He suppressed a sigh and doubted if she would ever see the ranger for the villain he was. But some of her words made sense once they got past his moral outrage and righteous indignation, and he had to admit there was a sort of truth in them. "Indeed, why not escape? Unless he wanted to wound you by boasting about his treachery, perhaps? Or perhaps he felt guilty and wanted you at least to escape death, and that's why he urged you to seek the safety of the wall. In fact, that's why he probably asked you to escape with him, unless...but there is also the possibility he wanted to trick you so he could take you to Black Garius, my love. Not that I think he honestly believed you would take him up on his offer."

He didn't want to believe anything but the worst of Bishop, but he had to admit there was a possibility that he had been coerced. He took a deep breath and added, "There are spells which Garius could have used to control Bishop, the most common being a geas, for example. Sand would be the one to ask, or Aldanon. If it would ease your mind, we could discuss it with either or both of them tomorrow. Not that I think it wise to divert Aldanon from the tome for long, especially if Sand thinks he's on the verge of a breakthrough."

She chuckled sardonically. "Well we couldn't have that, could we, though I have a feeling I know exactly when he'll have his breakthrough. Just in time for my birthday." He grunted in response, which was his way of avoiding a subject or agreeing to disagree. For all his wife's good qualities, he thought one fault was that she was overly superstitious about signs and omens in the stars.

She reminded him when a few months after they came to the Keep Neeshka had discovered an explorer and astrologer from Mulhorand traveling with a merchant company which had stopped there on its way north. He was making his living as he traveled by telling fortunes and drawing up charts based on the subject's sun sign and moon sign. He explained that the science was ancient, originating in the long-dead Imaskar empire. Sand had muttered as he swished off to the bar, "Actually, the sun elves developed that when humans were still living in caves and painting the walls with their feces."

Neeshka was eager to have her chart cast and immediately handed over five gold crowns. She only knew the day she had been abandoned as a newly-born babe at the temple orphanage, but the priests assumed she had been born that day based on her condition. Despite the vague information she had, he was able to create a chart that showed that she was born under the sun sign of the Star with Selûne in her new phase under the sign of the Raven. He explained that those whose sun fell under the sign of the Star were said to be courageous, energetic, impetuous and determined to make their own way in the world, self-reliant and adventurous risk-takers. And those born while Selûne fell under the sign of the Raven were also self-sufficient, lively, impetuous and outspoken." She giggled as she looked over the chart. "Doubly impetuous and loves taking risks. Sounds exactly like me!"

Shandra declared that the whole thing was nonsense, noting that he had described general qualities that anyone could have discerned after a brief acquaintance. Neeshka pressed Dee and Shandra to have their charts cast too. Shandra muttered that she could just toss her five gold crowns down the privy and make a wish too and walked off to get another ale from Sal, but Dee agreed. She told herself it was more from a desire to repay him for the pleasure of hearing his stories of the exotic places he had visited in his travels while he worked, places she still hoped to see some day, though she admitted she was curious to see what it revealed about her too. As it happened, she knew her approximate time of birth, as Rheta had assisted Shayla and Daeghun in delivering her after two days of labor, and had told her she was born at dawn, just as Lathander's first light painted the sky.

After consulting an almanac and finding the correct adjustment for time for the Sword Coast, he drew lines and circles with a compass on a scroll then announced, "Interesting, Captain. You were born under the Sign of the Wheel, with a waning Selûne under the sign of the Stone." He explained, "Those born under the Sign of the Wheel are said to be determined, self-motivated, enthusiastic and responsible, natural leaders who remain calm in a crisis and are not easily swayed by opposition. Although serious-minded, they are cheerful, optimistic and tenacious."

Neeshka giggled. "That sounds just like you too, Dee."

Shandra muttered as she sat at the next table with Sand, "Yeah, no one could guess that someone who was a squire and made the Captain of a keep before she reached one and twenty was a natural leader." Neeshka smacked her across her backside with her tail and stuck her tongue out at her.

He ignored Shandra as Dee muttered an apology and continued, "On the other hand, those born with Selûne under the sign of the Stone have much the same qualities—tenacious and fearless, proud and independent, they have great strength of character and rarely compromise. They thrive on challenge and have an innate belief in their own destiny." She repeated, "An innate belief in their own destiny" as he consulted another book. He murmured "destiny" too and tapped his lip with his index finger as if he was debating about continuing, but it was his opinion that his clients deserved the full truth. "I'm looking at the planets here, the day you were born. The position of this planet is considered to be in an angry aspect to your waning moon." He could tell that went right over her head, so he explained. "It's a good thing you thrive on a challenge, because you'll face many critical challenges before your life becomes relatively calm. In fact, you're going through a phase of two years which is critical as that planet returns to do battle with Selune."

Though she was subdued after listening to his report, she ordered a chart for Casavir as well despite his objection, being of a similar mind as Shandra though not so outspoken (or rude) about it. The man smiled at him inscrutably. "There is an old saying in my homeland, sir paladin-'Even the gods look to the stars.'" Casavir grunted and reluctantly yielded what he knew of the time and place of his birth as Dee counted out five more crowns. He could not have been persuaded for anyone but her, but he was rewarded with her brilliant smile as he pushed her coins back to her and took out his own coin pouch.

When the man finished, he smiled broadly as he showed them the chart. "I should have guessed this, sir. Your sun is under the sign of the Eagle, while Selûne was in her glory under the sign of the Spear. You, sir, are a born warrior, determined, resilient, organized, a strategist who is not deterred by setbacks, someone who believes in the power of patience and persistence. You are loyal to a fault, but reserved in showing affection."

"That is him exactly. You're really good!" Neeshka laughed and pointed at Casavir with her tail, who flushed and tried to ignore her.

He smiled and continued, "Those born with Selûne under the sign of the Spear are said to be practical, capable and steadfast in adversity, cautious, logical and efficient. You are like a master chess player, able to think ten moves ahead, but you prefer to assist rather than lead, except in battle. When you form relationships, you are supportive and protective. I suppose that mitigates your reluctance to show affection." Casavir cleared his throat as this was getting uncomfortably close to the truth, he took his chart and excused himself and thanked him for his time, though told himself he still agreed with Shandra that it was all rubbish.

Dee reminded him of that evening months ago. "I rolled up my chart and put it in the bottom of my trunk and haven't thought about it much since that night. But he was right about both of us, Cas. I should have paid him to look over Bishop's chart too. Mayhap we could have seen his betrayal comin' and done something to stop it."

Casavir knew very well the ranger would have responded to such a request with the most vile obscenities, but he kept his opinion to himself. "I don't imagine there would have been a sign in the stars to warn us that he wasn't to be trusted, my love. Even if he had the blackest of omens in his chart, it still comes down to his free will. Otherwise, we're nothing but puppets. The sad thing is I suspect Bishop's betrayal was motivated by fear and a lack of faith—in you, in the gods, in destiny." He frowned in thought. "There's something Gilles told me that we decided to keep from you as you had more than enough to worry about."

She lay back with her arms folded behind her head and met his eyes. "What was it?"

He flushed with shame for not revealing it until now, as if she were a child that needed to be coddled. "Torio Claven told Lord Nasher's spymaster when she was being interrogated that she thought one of your companions had dealings with Black Garius. But she did not know who it was, as Lorne had been the contact, and she wasn't even sure it was one of our company. I admit I suspected Bishop immediately when Gilles told me. It makes sense that Bishop would have sought an alliance with the Luskans if he feared he might be implicated in the slaughter of Ember." It also occurred to Casavir that was a likely explanation for Bishop staying with them when he had no interest in their mission or anything else binding him to them. "And if Garius cast a geas on him as I suspect, from what I know of the spell, it's indefinite as long as the caster doesn't violate the terms. Again, Sand would be able to tell you more than I."

She sat up and drew her knees to her chest and wrapped her arms around them. "It's my fault, Cas. I put that idea in his head before the trial."

He replied adamantly. "Don't even think that, my love. We were all aware of the danger of being charged as your accomplices. In fact, Neeshka brought it up to me a few days before the trial. It was the first time she ever sought me out for a private conversation, despite claiming I was making her break out in hives. I was honored that she valued my opinion enough to tolerate the discomfort. She was fearful, but she didn't betray you despite her fear. She confessed she thought of running away, yet she didn't. She told me she couldn't believe that Lord Nasher would find you guilty and she thought that he was wise enough to see the truth. However, I believe Bishop wasn't willing to take that chance."

"Or he knew how treacherous the Luskans were and couldn't believe that truth would win out. And what's going to become of him now?" She scooted to the side of the bed then turned to look at him as she stood. "Would you pray for him with me?"

He stood up to join her but pulled the sheet off the bed to cover his nakedness. "I would do that much for him, my love." He wrapped the sheet around them and they stood before Casavir's image of Tyr, joining hands as he led her in a heartfelt prayer for Bishop, that he would find a way out of any pact with Black Garius, and that Tyr's justice would be swift and merciful, for there was no escape from the god's justice.

When he finished, they lingered for a few minutes before the image in quiet meditation. She yawned and he yawned in response, finally feeling the effects of Zhjaeve's potion. They both chuckled, and she looked up at him and smiled tiredly. "Come, husband. We really should get to bed before we fall asleep standing here."

He smiled sweetly and took her hand and led her to their bed where they resumed their favorite sleeping position, with his arm holding her securely. He kissed the top of her head and whispered, "I pray that you have sweet dreams too, my love." She murmured something he didn't make out in reply, succumbing to the potion and drifting off to sleep.

They slept longer than they intended and awoke before dawn still feeling slightly groggy from the potion. They still made it to the audience hall in time to relieve Nevalle and Light-of-Heavens, who had taken the night duty. Nevalle, looking bleary-eyed and uncharacteristically disheveled, mumbled "Good night," and walked off stiffly for his room, where Leather was waiting with a promised back rub after he finished his shift at the temple. Light-of-Heavens' face was as serene as ever though she must have been exhausted too. By the time Kana arrived an hour later she was surprised to find they had already gone through the reports and requisitions of the past few days and had finished the day's duty rosters.

Hiram the cook poked his head in and cleared his throat. "Begging your pardon, Captain, but breakfast is near ready. I took the liberty of bringin' breakfast for your companions in the War Room. Master Jerro suggested it so you could go over the battle while you ate. I think he sent word to them through the pages."

Dee's stomach rumbled, and Casavir smirked at her. "Doesn't sound like you need to be asked twice." She grimaced in response, putting her hand over her stomach. "I'll meet you there, love." He watched her with concern as she walked quickly towards the privies until she passed from his sight. He was worried about her facing another attack of nerves, but this would all be over soon, one way or another. It occurred to him as he walked to the War Room that if not for Tyr's grace he would likely be sick with nerves as well.

He took Hiram aside as soon as they entered the room. He looked around conspiratorially and observed that Neeshka hadn't arrived yet, nor had Sand. In fact, the only ones present so far were Khelgar, Grobnar, Zhjaeve and Ammon Jerro. He leaned down and whispered, "Tomorrow is my lady's birthday."

He craned his neck and grinned up at Casavir. "Aye, my lord, so it is. I've already got a cake planned. Somethin' light with the last of the fresh berries so it won't be too heavy on her seething stomach. I was thinkin' of makin' it today in case...well, if you have to leave before then."

Casavir smiled. "Great minds think alike. I was thinking of having a small surprise party for my wife tonight at supper."

Hiram winked at him and whispered, "Say no more, my lord. My lips are sealed. I won't speak a word of it...not a word." He winked again as Neeshka walked in with Dee and Cillian right behind her and slipped out through the service door.

The others arrived (except for Qara) by the time bowls of oatmeal had been ladled out and passed around by Casavir along with a platter of sausages and another of fresh fruit. The last to arrive besides Qara was Elanee, who was escorted to the door by Daeghun. They stood talking softly in elven for a few minutes until Dee called out, "Father, will you join us?"

"I'm afraid I have some scouting to do, daughter." He nodded at Dee then smiled at Elanee again, who blushed in response. She watched him until he slipped away down the back stairs so he could go out the escape tunnel, where Wolf was waiting to show him the way to the last place he had seen the Luskans.

Dee listened and picked at her oatmeal as Sand gave his report on Aldanon's status. "He has an interesting theory, but he says he has to complete more research. Luckily the tomes he needs are available in your library, and he has plenty of research assistants to do the menial work. It's almost as if it's going according to plan, though I don't know whose plan." Dee raised an eyebrow at Casavir and mouthed, "See?"

Qara finally joined them as they finished their debriefing, just in time to hear Dee recount her conversation with Bishop before he and Karnwyr teleported away. Qara smirked as Dee finished with, "Lord Nasher has charged him with high treason. He will hang for sure if he's captured." Qara wasn't surprised, and she was only a little miffed that he hadn't taken her with him. When it came right down to it, she thought he was a coward and a fool, unlike her. She looked forward to the next battle and for the excuse to demonstrate her powers. The pity was, once they destroyed the King of Shadows, she wouldn't have a challenge unless she found new allies who appreciated her talent, unlike these fools. She considered the possibilities as she poured herself a cup of coffee.

Grobnar observed Qara, correctly guessing he was the only one that had noticed how much time she had spent with Bishop at the inn and deciding she was another one who bore watching. He was about to share the incident concerning the construct's password with the others, but thought better of it. The Captain looked thoroughly disheartened by the betrayal. It put him in mind of the story of the woman who took in a half-frozen snake only to have it bite her once she brought it back from the brink of death. The revelation of the nature of the snake she had harbored in her bosom was enough of a lesson. He didn't feel the need to rub salt in the wound. Besides, he had already changed the password last evening before going to bed, as he had planned all along.

Neeshka did decide to reveal her own suspicions about Bishop. "Well I was sure he was up to something. But I could never prove it. I tried to follow him, but he's good at ditching a tail, I'll give him that. That alone made me even more suspicious, but without proof...I could go through his room now, though it's probably not worth the effort." She shrugged helplessly then added, "But Cill—I think he was trying to find him too. Once when I lost Bishop in the lower levels I came upon Cill sniffing the air and looking for someone, and I knew _you_ weren't down there." Cillian didn't understand anything but did understand the sound his bonded called him by, so he knew they were talking about him. He chuffed and lay his head on Dee's lap.

Sand sat in contemplation with his delicate fingers steepled under his chin. "That puts me in mind of something Aldanon was nattering on about a few days ago. We were looking for a particular book for me to take back to my chambers for research, and he remarked that the books that the Captain's scout, the one with the dog, had borrowed had never been returned. Would you believe he had half a mind to refuse to allow me to take the book I was seeking until they were. Me? I assumed he was lost in the past, remembering some other person at some other time, and I suggested he take a nap. I couldn't imagine Bishop wanting to read up on magical theory or using a book for anything but to tear out the pages for privy rags for that matter. Frankly, I was surprised he _could_ read, but it would give credence to Casavir's theory. I could ask Aldanon if he remembers if Bishop was seeking any information about a geas spell; however, there's still the matter of his being close enough to Black Garius for the spell to be cast."

Casavir added grudgingly, "A good lawyer could make that a legitimate defense at the trial. It could be argued in that case, I suppose, that he betrayed Dee, not Neverwinter."

Sand continued while the others ate quietly. "If we're assuming he was the traitor feeding Black Garius information about our defense for the trial, it could be argued indeed that he had never intended to commit treason against Neverwinter...It's a capital offense, after all, and I can't imagine him risking his own neck out of spite to you, dear girl. On the other hand, since he now has been forced to perform an act that can lead to his death, it's very possible he's broken the geas. However, he may not be aware of that yet. It's difficult to say without knowing the exact wording of the spell."

They adjourned, going their own ways until supper. Dee and Casavir made another visit by the hospital then joined in the solemn prayers at the burial ceremony, with Dee earnestly chanting the invocation to the god of the dead from a book of common prayer since there was no priest of Kelemvor at the Keep. Once relieved of this grim duty, she asked Casavir for some time alone to commune with Cillian. "Of course, my love. I was about to ask if you minded if I went to walk the grounds, but I'll come to get you for supper." They kissed and he went off on his 'walk' to tell the others about his surprise party.

She wanted to run off into the wilds for some time alone with her bear, but there was no time for her own needs now. The risk would be foolish too, she knew. Instead she and Cillian went to her chamber. She chuckled dryly at the raucous snoring coming from the next chamber where Nevalle and the festhall boy were sleeping soundly. She dug through her scroll case until she found one for the silence spell and cast it on the fireplace and sighed with relief. "That's better, now I can hear myself think." Cillian chuffed in agreement.

She sat cross-legged on the floor looking into the bear's soft chocolate eyes, grimacing at the missing fur and scars from the battle that hadn't healed yet. "It was selfish of me to call you back so soon, my love, but I missed you so, and I don't know how much time we'll have before..." She tried to keep her thoughts simple and not use words or concepts he couldn't understand as she communicated Bishop's betrayal. But she only learned that Cillian, like Neeshka, didn't trust the wolf-walker because he was afraid he wanted to hurt his bonded again. What set off his suspicions was Bishop going down through the dark places and leaving through the tunnel, but without Karnwyr. Cillian seemed to be grieved that he hadn't let her know.

"It's alright, love. I understand." She kissed the top of his head and leaned against him as he lay down on his rug, ruffling his fur for a few minutes.

She sat up and drew the Sword of Gith and ran her hand along the blade as it lay across her lap. "Casavir should be here, for safety's sake, but I have to do this while I can." She closed her eyes and reached out to the sword through the shard lodged in her chest. After a while she could sense an alien presence in her mind, one that she now realized she had felt for the past two years since she retrieved the shard for Daeghun. She told it, "I want to end the twisted existence of the King of Shadows as much as you do. I have felt, and can feel you urging me on. Mayhap this battle never was my will at all, but rather yours. But there's a reason why we two were joined. We're stronger together; it's time for us to finish together what Ammon Jerro started when he found you in the lower planes. But I have to be in charge, alright?"

She was relieved that it didn't answer, though she could sense it humming contentedly. "Now that that's settled..." She sheathed the sword and decided to organize her pack and her bag of holding, taking out what she thought she might need then locking it away in her desk drawer again along with letters to be delivered to her companions, Daeghun, and Judge Oleff in the event of her death. She finished by leaving a note on her elven chain mail that she wanted it to go to Daeghun then put on her leather brigandine in its place.

Casavir came to collect her right on schedule and escorted her and Cillian to the War Room. She was surprised to see Nevalle, Daeghun, Bevil and Katriona there as well and looked up at Casavir in puzzlement. Neeshka squealed, "Surprise!" as soon as she saw her, and she hopped up and down then ran over to give her a hug. Casavir hugged her too and said softly, "Happy birthday, my love." On cue, Hiram carried in a large cake festooned with berries with a single candle in the middle being assisted by Wolf and several of his crew, who were hoping to be rewarded with a piece of cake. She blew out the candle, and they ate supper then Casavir cut the cake while she served and passed it around.

Ammon Jerro for once didn't have a lecture to deliver about how they didn't have time for such frivolous pursuits and had to focus on the battle ahead. She opened her gifts—a new dwarven smithing hammer from Khelgar, a book on the planes from Ammon Jerro, a silver filigree hand mirror from Nevalle, a high-quality set of lock picks from Neeshka, a new silver Harper pin from Grobnar, Volo's latest travel guide from Sand, a herbal skin balm made by Elanee, and a set of arrows from her foster father fletched with her colors. Casavir gave her a new cotton shirt and a lacy blue nightgown (he murmured that it matched her eyes) but stopped her before she took it too far out of the box, flushing as he whispered, "There's some new small clothes too. Umm, please wait to look at them until we're alone."

After she had opened all the gifts and everyone had eaten their cake, Dee stood and addressed her companions. "Thank you all, I really was surprised! As for now, we should go back to our chambers and make sure we're ready to leave at a moment's notice and that we have no unfinished business. Then we deserve an evening to ourselves. Until tomorrow."

She nudged Casavir to look at Daeghun walk away with Elanee with his hand resting lightly on her arm. "He's takin' it slowly."

Casavir chuckled. "Slow for us, perhaps, but perhaps for an elf it's a whirlwind courtship." He grew serious as they reached the landing. "I have made my preparations, and I assume you have too."

They entered their room following Cillian, and she put her gifts down on the desk. "I'm as ready as I'm gonna be, love. Since we have the evening free...let it be for us." She took his present and stepped behind the screen where she held up the nightgown, marveling at the delicate Sembian lace and embroidery. She undressed then looked through the new small clothes. One day she hoped to ask him where he got his taste for ruffles and lace. "Cas! These must have cost a fortune! And how did you manage to shop without my knowing?"

He smiled pleased with himself for getting something past her observant eyes as he sat on the edge of the bed removing his boots. "I sent a letter to your favorite shop with my requests with Gilles on one of his visits to Neverwinter. He assured me the better shops have their regular customers' measurements on file."

She chose a set of small clothes that she was sure would drive him wild and said seductively, "I'm should model these for you to make sure they fit, and then you can help me take them off." She closed her eyes and whispered, "We may die tomorrow, but we're gonna live a lifetime of lovin' tonight."

Casavir looked over as he pulled his shirt over his head and tossed it on the floor then unfastened his trewes. "Did you say something, my love?"

She stepped out from behind the screen and walked slowly towards him then turned around to give him the full view and said huskily, "I was just thinkin' aloud of all the things I plan to do to you tonight. 'Tis my birthday, after all."

He swallowed hard he watched her sway towards him and moved to the middle of the bed. "Indeed? I must confess I had thoughts along those lines as well. I agree, let this night be for us."

Sometime the next morning after breakfast but before highsun, Sand burst into the audience chamber. Casavir startled and reached for his war hammer, but Dee looked up calmly as Sand said excitedly, "Come quickly! Aldanon finally thinks he figured it out. I sent a guard for the others. We must get there before he forgets it!" He turned with a swish of his robes and jogged to the library.

Dee stood and stretched slowly. She was surprised she felt eerily calm, and for once the nausea wasn't threatening to overwhelm her either. Casavir had immediately started for the library but stopped and turned back as he realized she wasn't at his side. Cillian also paused in mid stride and looked back at her as Casavir asked, "Is something wrong, my love?"

She chuckled lightly. "No, but there's need to rush. We'll get there when we're supposed to get there, according to plan. See, I told you it would be today." She took his arm and led him to the library, hoping that would be the first of her victories this day.


	41. Out of the Frying Pan

Chapter 41 Out of the Frying Pan...

Usual disclaimers: The characters in this story are owned by Wizards of the Coast, Atari, Obsidian, and a whole lot of other people and not by me, except for an occasional NPC and a bear and paladin lovin' ranger. Dialog is also paraphrased from the OC.ar

**At the Keep: **

Word had spread like wildfire, and the audience chamber was packed with people who wanted to see them off. Sand reluctantly handed a wicker basket containing his beloved cat over to the tender care of Mimi and Mignon, the twins from the Festhall, and gave a kiss to each of them. Dee slipped a letter for her master of horse into Kana's hand telling him that if she didn't return, Blossom and Thunder were to be turned out to pasture for the rest of their lives. She suspected that Blossom was with foal, and Thunder would still allow no rider but Casavir, though he did allow Dee to brush him and feed him apples.

She walked back to where Aldanon was explaining that the spell in the tome allowed the user to fold space on itself so that two places or two people that were far apart became next to each other. It wasn't so much opening a portal as it was creating one temporarily between them and Black Garius. Dee asked quietly, "How do we do this?"

She caught Daeghun's eye and smiled and nodded, which he returned then did the same with Elanee, who smiled back and blushed. No final words were necessary. Everything had been spoken between them the night before over birthday cake. She had taken him aside and given him her old Harper pin to give to Wolf in a few tendays when he came of age, in case she wasn't around to do it herself. She had discussed him with Daeghun and Grobnar, and they both agreed he was a good candidate. It was a tradition, passing on a Harper agent's pin to a new recruit. Daeghun had told her he had hoped to pass his on to her before he sent her to Neverwinter.

Aldanon cleared his throat and caught her attention again. "It's quite simple, Captain. As I was saying..." He began the lengthy explanation again until Sand interrupted him with a terse, "Oh, let's get on with this. _How_ doesn't matter. What matters is that it _does_. Everyone gather together and join hands."

"Is everyone ready then?" Her companions gave their assent through a grunt or a nod. Dee looked around at her companions, all carrying packs loaded with supplies of healing potions and spare weapons. Everyone but Dee was splendid in their best armor and equipment, but she was comfortable in her leather brigandine, which had been crafted with unique enchantments for Harper agents. She also wore an ingenious cord Grobnar had created with loops on the ends that would hold her spectacles securely in place no matter how much she got tossed around.

Khelgar's Ironfist regalia still looked out of place against his simple robe. Sand wore a new brilliant emerald green cloth-of-gold robe which bore such strong enchantments that he shimmered with a magical aura, as much as from the gold woven into the fabric. He also wore a golden headband he had just enchanted using the beljuril Dee traded to him when she first arrived in Neverwinter. It gave him nearly godlike cognitive abilities. Dee noticed that Qara had relented and donned Sydney Natale's grey robe, which Dee guessed rivaled Sand's in the quality of its enchantments. She also carried Sydney Natale's staff. Grobnar had fashioned himself a saddle so he could ride high on the Construct's back, and he scurried into place.

A few minutes later Aldanon had spoken the words and activated the spell, and they stepped through a portal in the audience chamber and emerged in an ancient structure with distinctive Ilefarn craftsmanship. It was just a guess, but she suspected this was that ruin deeper in the swamp that she had approached with Bevil two years ago, the one that Daeghun had always insisted she stay away from it when she was out exploring. It took them a few minutes to get their bearings and recover from the strain of teleporting, though Dee was pleasantly surprised to find she was getting used to it and didn't feel half as sick as she usually did.

**Deep in the Mere:**

It wasn't much past highsun, but there were no windows or skylights in this chamber. Sand had created more of his ingenious light tubes, though he had refined his idea and created smaller ones that could be fitted onto a helmet so they could have their hands free as they moved through the ruin. He had also cast permanent light spells on a number of copper coins and stones and pulled out a few out of a pouch on his belt to toss across the floor and light the chamber.

The air inside the structure was stale and reeked of dust, mold, rot, and death. A quick perusal of the chamber they landed in revealed corpses, thankfully still and lying where they fell. Some looked fairly fresh while others had been reduced by time to skeletal remains or dessicated mummies; all looked as if they once had been adventurers who met their ends trying to loot the ruins. In another time they would have searched the dead for useful equipment. Dee called out, "Is everyone ready?"

Grobnar suddenly cried out in alarm, "Oh my! Excuse me, Captain, but Neeshka is gone!"

"What do you mean she's gone?" Throwing caution to the wind Dee shouted the tiefling's name, but there was no reply. Elanee said helpfully that she had been there moments ago when they came through. Dee hoped she had only given in to temptation to loot the corpses. They shone their lights around the ground, concerned that the tiefling was lying injured or worse. Cillian reported he couldn't smell her, and Dee again called out to her frantically. But Neeshka had vanished as if she had never been with them at all.

Casavir put his gauntleted hand on Dee's arm. "They've surely taken her somehow, love. Perhaps they targeted her because of her lower planes blood. We must move on and pray to the gods that we find her." Dee was about to reply when they heard a clattering moving over the marble floor and turned their lights on a clutch of bone spiders racing to catch fresh prey. They drew their weapons and took up defensive positions.

They fought their way through chamber after chamber. The bone spiders gave way to skeletons and ghasts, and then wraiths. They could tell they were reaching their goal of finding Black Garius's inner sanctum because the attacks became more frequent and more deadly. They finished a grueling battle with vampires and a mummy lord and tried to take a few minutes to rest, but resting only made them targets, and they found themselves facing a lich. Dee worried that the spellcasters would deplete their spells before they reached Garius and the King of Shadows, though Ammon Jerro's spells seemed endless and Sand had created as many wands, rods, and scrolls of his most powerful spells as he could in the months leading up to this battle. Qara was another matter, and the girl was showing the fatigue from blasting the hells out of everything they encountered.

Travel was difficult because of the locked and trapped doors that Dee struggled to disarm and unlock, muttering while she did that Neeshka could have opened the locks in her sleep. Eventually they let the Construct bash the doors down or activate the traps. They found they could only gain access to the deeper recesses of the structure via travel through ominous looking clouds of black fog, created by Black Garius as a means of defending his sanctum. The last portal took them to a huge, ornate set of doors, which had obviously once been a place of importance. They slumped to the floor to take time to rest for a few minutes then and everyone pulled out their water skins and healing potions; for once it seemed they had destroyed all the undead in this chamber. But with Neeshka still missing, they didn't dare risk more than a few minutes to rest.

Casavir handed Dee his water skin. She smiled warmly at him and took a drink then handed it back. She leaned her head against his and closed her eyes. "I think we're getting close to her. Wouldn't be surprised but that Garius has reserved the worst for last. More shadow reavers for sure."

He kissed her cheek and put his arm around her shoulders. "No, I should imagine he would have his strongest minions protecting him and his portal. Don't worry, love. We will find her."

"I only pray it's in time." She opened her eyes and turned so she could face him and pulled off her glove while he removed one gauntlet so they could touch hands. "I just want to look on you until we get movin,' love." She hesitated as if she was unsure of her words. "I pray we have enough charges on that rod too. I've set the gold aside with Brother Ivarr for resurrection spells if any of us..."

He leaned forward and gave her a soft kiss on the lips. "Indeed, we need only a small portion of the...remains, though there are limits even to such a powerful spell."

She looked grim. "That's assuming they can even get to our..._remains_ if we're all..." She closed her eyes again. "But I swear if I live I won't leave anyone behind unless we're forced to. Brother Ivarr said we've got ten years in which to have the spell cast."

He smiled sweetly at her. "Have faith, my love, that a few months from now we'll be honeymooning in Marsember at my aunt's villa—even if one or both of us must be resurrected first."

She stroked his cheek. "And if not...I read in _The Book of Grace _that there's a gate in the wall at the entrance to Kelemvor's gray city. I'll meet you there just inside it on the right side. We can wait there outside of the queue..."

She trailed off, and he grabbed her and kissed her fiercely then drew back and said with determination, "I want you to know love you with all my being. We've shared a lifetime's worth of love in the past months, and we're just getting started. Come, give me another kiss before we get under way." After another kiss they reluctantly broke away.

She stood and pulled him to his feet. "Come on, let's do this. We have some demigod ass to kick to the hells." After a too-short rest everyone took up defensive positions again as Dee nodded at Casavir and he pushed the doors open.

Beyond the doors they found they had to cross a bridge, and then another. Dee peered across the first one and muttered, "Perfect spot for an ambush," and Casavir agreed. And they were right as Sand gasped, "Three shadow reavers?" But by now Ammon Jerro had learned there was strength to be gained in working as a team as he and Zhjaeve, shielded by her Sanctuary spell, held back from the first bridge and calmly recited the scrolls while the others fought. Sand and Elanee summoned elemental creatures as fodder to defend them until the scrolls were read. One after another the reavers fell, and they only lost Qara and Elanee. Dee made use of Lord Nasher's rod of resurrection and prayed it still had a few charges. They still hadn't found Garius nor Neeshka though they heard blood-curdling screams that surely had to have come from her that made them more anxious to find her.

Once they crossed the second bridge they entered a small alcove leading to another set of even more ornate double doors. "This must be it. Let's get ready." Dee sat down and took a few moments to reform the sword of Gith. Sand took the time before they went on to pull out scrolls of protection from missiles spells from his scroll case, which he cast on Dee and Casavir first. He pointed out that it was a matter of time before they encountered Bishop, and they were his most likely targets, though he cast another on himself knowing how the ranger felt about mages. When everyone was ready, Casavir opened the doors.

Arranged in a semi-circle around the chamber were replicas of the statues in Arvahn which they had used to complete the ritual of purification. Behind it was a glowing song portal. Neeshka was in the center of the chamber hunched over, bloodied and battered. She staggered to them, and Zhjaeve rushed to her side and immediately cast a healing spell. She struggled to talk, her voice panic-stricken. "I knew you would get here if I just hung on, but we have to get out of here now. Garius will be back!"

"He's going to pay for what he did to you, Neesh," Dee snarled as Black Garius stepped from behind a statue. Most of their companions murmured their agreement.

"I've about had it with your meddling, knight of Neverwinter," Black Garius scolded as if she were an errant schoolgirl.

He explained calmly how he had tortured Neeshka, spilling her lower planes blood to activate the ancient Illefarn defenses, and that now she was his to control. He explained that she must have powerful lower planes blood flowing through her veins, and that was why she attracted demons and devils like Mephasm and Xaxis. It wasn't lost on Dee that he sought to weaken their resolve.

He gestured towards Dee dismissively. "But let me demonstrate. My dear Neeshka, you will remove this annoying Knight for me."

Neeshka raised her rapier as if to attack, but she didn't move. Her eyes glowed crimson. The strain of fighting the geas showed on her face, and beads of sweat broke out on her forehead. "I...don't want to do this...but it's like the whole of Illefarn is pressing down on me _making_ me do it." Her companions encouraged her to fight it while Garius quietly insisted she kill Dee at once.

"You're stronger than this, fiendling!" Khelgar roared as he stood by ready to drop her with his quivering palm attack, but he prayed to Tyr he was right.

Neeshka took a step forward then threw her rapier down and cursed. "By the hells I won't do this! You're my best friend! I won't do it!" She gasped loudly and dropped to her knees as Elanee and Zhjaeve came to her aid. With their help she stood and grinned triumphantly as she snatched back her rapier and took her place with her companions. She glared at him. "And now you're going to pay, Garius."

Black Garius looked unfazed. "She doesn't matter. I still have your former_ lover_ as an ally."

A heartbeat later Bishop, looking haggard, stepped into view from behind one of the statues. Karnwyr again wasn't at his side, and Dee wondered if he had finally had enough of Bishop. She felt a twinge of regret in her heart at that thought. He glared at her, his bow strung and his hand resting casually on two arrows. "For what it's worth, you almost made me stay. Almost. But I really didn't have any choice. The strange thing is I tried to hate you like I hated your uncle, but I couldn't. Not that it matters now."

"You're telling me you have to kill me because you hate my uncle?," Dee asked incredulously. "And what did Uncle Duncan do to you anyway? You're not making any kind of sense, Bish."

Black Garius said condescendingly, "Oh go ahead, tell her, Bishop. We have time enough for you to indulge yourself." It wasn't lost on Dee or most of her companions that he was stalling for time (Sand speculated he was waiting for their protection spells to expire) for the King of Shadows to break through the portal.

Bishop glared at him, wanting to smash him in the mouth. He explained his connection with Duncan like a defendant giving testimony before a jury—how he was being inducted into a Luskan assassin's guild, and they were to select some remote village to slaughter. He had chosen his home village. But by then he was through with Luskan and saw that as his way out. He had thought that instead of following orders, he would warn the villagers then kill the Luskans and be free. His village died despite his efforts, but so did the Luskans, though he was badly wounded too. "And then when I thought it was all over and I was free, Duncan found me and saved my life."

Dee got the feeling as she listened that he wasn't telling the whole truth. There had to be a reason why the villagers didn't trust him or believe him and didn't flee even after he set fires around the perimeter. She had seen burn scars on his back and legs and remembered how he had bristled when she asked him about them. Despite her anger at his betrayal, she found herself pitying him. Dee understood then the hatred he felt for the man who saved him from oblivion. "But why not just kill Uncle Duncan then if he was the only one who knew the truth about your past?"

He gave her that look he used to give her right before he would call her stupid. "You just don't get it. I owed him, so I couldn't kill him. But you know what a big mouth he has, so I had to watch him to make sure he didn't tell anyone else, like Sal, or you."

Dee remembered that night at the temple when he was hinting that she knew something, that she was 'blackmailing' him. Now it made sense. "He never told me, for what it's worth. He tried to talk to me about you, but I wouldn't hear it. You probably don't believe me, but it's the truth." Just for a moment she saw something in his eyes—sadness, or regret—before they darkened as he hardened his heart against her again.

Black Garius interrupted, his voice dripping with sarcasm, "Touching, but I grow tired of your prattle. Bishop, enough of this. Our master awaits." Bishop shot him another furious glare then looked puzzled for a moment.

Dee said mockingly, cupping her hand around her ear, "Was that an _order_ I heard? Sounds like you only found yourself another master, Bish."

He glared dangerously at her too, but he knew the wench was right though he hated her for rubbing it in. Right now he didn't know who he hated more, her or Garius. But at that moment he realized something else too, something he had suspected since Garius had him sabotage the gate but didn't dare hope. Something had broken Garius's hold over him. But he had hesitated to test whether he was free until now. Last time he tried he nearly fainted from the pain.

Black Garius inadvertently forced his hand. "We have heard enough from this knight of Neverwinter and from you, ranger. Now be silent!"

Bishop glared at him again, cursed and spat on the ground. "Yeah? Well I don't take orders from you or anyone. Good luck, Garius. You'll need it. See you around, sweetheart," he added saucily. He expected another round of excruciating pain, but nothing came. It worked! He was free! He could hardly believe that something was going right for him at last.

Black Garius sputtered in outrage, "What? I warn you, Bishop, if you leave here you will die! I will come for you when I've finished them!"

Bishop chuckled with disdain at the fear in his voice. "No, _you're_ going to die if you stay here, Garius." Before Garius could react, he sprinted away to the quarters he was given where he had been forced to leave Karnwyr. If he got out fast enough, they could lose themselves deep in the mountains and find a cave to hole up in for the winter then get the hells out of Neverwinter and Luskan territory as soon as the mountain passes were clear. The thought occurred to him as he ran that he need not disappear. He could play on the wench's sympathies with a tale of how Garius had tricked him and the horrors he had endured because of the geas. He might touch her soft heart. Wenches were weak like that. Trouble was, he had the paladin and the pansy mage to convince too, not to mention Nasher. No, that was too risky to his neck. Better to get Karnwyr and get far away while he could.

Black Garius regained his composure and decided to deal with the ranger later when he had the full power of his master behind him. The ranger may have broken the geas, but he had other ways of finding him. For now he was more interested in surviving until his master broke through the portal. He turned to Dee's companions, offering them their heart's desire based on what Bishop had told him about them to tempt them to his side.

Casavir, Khelgar, and Zhjaeve immediately declared they would die first, as he expected. Sand and Ammon Jerro also refused his offer with contempt, with Sand adding a pithy crack about all the shadow reavers they had already sent to the hells. Ammon Jerro growled a promise that he would watch him die for daring to speak Shandra's name.

But as Bishop had led him to expect, and to really none of her companions' surprise, Qara immediately accepted his offer of godlike power-"magnified ten, a hundred times"-power beyond her wildest dreams. She smiled greedily and ran over to join him as he raised energy fields to protect the portal (and himself), leaving Qara, his shadow golems, dread wraiths, and a balor to deal with the Captain and her companions. Sand wasted no time during the ensuing battle in showing her his superior defensive skills, though it was Elanee who finished the sorceress with an arrow to her heart so that Sand wouldn't waste his spells on her, as she surmised had been Garius's plan.

Then Sand, Ammon Jerro, Elanee and Zhjaeve turned their spells on Black Garius as the rest cleaned up the fodder. They couldn't get around the barriers, but the spells, arrows, and the shards from the sword could. As the shards from the Sword of Gith tore into him, Dee swore she heard him whine, "But how?" She didn't bother to answer.

They caught their breaths, Neeshka not even bothering with looting Qara's body, though she covered her with her cloak and handed Sand her staff. Dee considered for a moment using Lord Nasher's rod of resurrection to bring her back to face justice if for no other reason, but she didn't know how many charges remained. She muttered as she looked at her corpse, "We might need it for someone who hasn't betrayed us. We can always haul her body out when we leave." But it wasn't lost on Dee that no one would know the truth if they left her here. She would be a dead hero, not a traitor. She handed the rod to Casavir, who stuck it in his weapon belt.

Dee meditated to reform the sword as the rest kept wary eyes on the portal as they drank potions and cast healing spells then did what armor repairs they could. Just as Sand was speculating about whether they could simply destroy the portal and prevent the King of Shadow's return, it flared to life and his avatar stepped through. There was no reasoning with him by pointing out that the Illefarn empire was many years dead, but they had to try. All their arguments were pointless.

His deep voice rumbled through the chamber. "You fail to understand what I protect, and that is why you all must die." He almost sounded as if he regretted what he must do to counter this threat to Illefarn.

Dee and Ammon Jerro had combined their ritual powers while the others attacked. They defeated him easily—too easily, Sand declared in disbelief, and in their gut they all knew he was right. A few heartbeats later many smaller versions of the King of Shadows streamed through the portal. It seemed like two more sprung up for every one they cut down. But as soon as they defeated the last one and they looked around for more, there was an ominous rumbling in the chamber as a black cloud enveloped the portal before the King of Shadows himself stepped through.

He was darkly magnificent, and they could feel dark power of the Shadow Weave radiating from him. They realized at once the others had been merely shadows with a fraction of his power. Even the usually indefatigable Grobnar felt his insides turn liquid with fear. Could they defeat a demigod? For that's what this thing was.

Sand was reduced to scrolls, wands, and his staff (and Qara's) by now, but he had crafted many scrolls of his most potent spells, as had Zhjaeve. Ammon Jerro glowed with an unholy light as he fought grimly, appearing to be strengthened by the challenge of facing his old enemy again rather than weakened. Dee thought she would have dropped by now if not for the power of the sword coursing through her body. Casavir sang a battle hymn of Tyr as he fought. Khelgar channeled his _qi _ attacks into the Ironfist artifacts he wore to increase their power.

Ammon Jerro paused and studied the situation then shouted, "Those statues—they give him his power! Destroy them and then the portal!"

Dee replied with the faintest of nods and immediately broke off the fight and attacked the statues with Casavir and Khelgar assisting her and Cillian defending her while the others concentrated on the King of Shadows. They bashed away at the first one for only a minute before it cracked and broke down the middle and fell to the floor with a satisfying crash, and she smiled grimly as they felt their enemy's power diminish slightly. She mused that they might even make it home in time for a late supper as she attacked another. One statue fell after the other, and each one encouraged them to fight on. Once they finished they destroyed the portal; then it was only a matter of time before they destroyed the King of Shadows as well, everyone turning to attack him at once with spells and weapons.

In the aftermath Sand lay on the floor, gray, and still—as Casavir ran to his side and used the rod to bring him back to life, Dee thanked the gods they hadn't wasted a charge on Qara. Everyone cheered then Elanee broke out healing potions and passed them around.

Casavir had just helped Sand to his feet and Dee sent a badly wounded Cillian back to Meilikki's care when they heard an ominous, deafening crack. They paused in mid-motion and gave each other puzzled looks. Then heard another. Dee realized what was happening, just like in her dream. There was no time for Sand to reactivate the incantation in the tome and get them home. "Run!," she screamed, and they did, retracing their steps out of the inner sanctum and across the bridge. But the structure was a maze, and they had traveled through it via the black portals before. Now they went on instinct as pillars began to fall, and then the ceiling they supported began to crack.

On the other side of the structure Bishop hurried through the tunnels as fast as his legs would carry him, growling at Karnwyr to keep up. He congratulated himself on having the foresight of finding ways out of the ruin in case he was able to escape. He had made it to his room and freed Karnwyr and grabbed his pack. The one thing he was worried about was that the wench might fail. He knew Black Garius would torture him to death then raise him just to do it again. He also knew he was far in the claimed lands and he wouldn't make it far before he ended up a corpse like those in West Harbor. But none of that mattered if he was free. He was just about to an exit when the building began rumbling and his way was nearly cut off as a pillar crashed to the floor in front of him. He cursed and vaulted over stones, growling again at Karnwyr to keep up. The door was tauntingly close, and then he reached it and shoved it open. He turned and whistled at Karnwyr to run out ahead of him when there was another tremor and the doorway collapsed in a shower of stone on top of them.

Neeshka was in the lead holding her lucky coin tightly and throwing out a short prayer to Tymora as she deftly dodged falling stone. Khelgar focused for a heartbeat then jumped into the air and kicked a large slab of stone blocking their way, breaking it and removing the obstacle. The Construct was carrying Grobnar in its arms. Casavir and Dee took the lead, with Ammon Jerro right behind them. She ran through a doorway and waited for the others to pass then turned because Casavir hadn't caught up to her. She saw him in the doorway bracing it; it was one that had been rigged with an acid trap earlier. The trap had weakened the door frame enough that it was in danger of collapse, and Casavir was holding it up as Zhjaeve and Elanee passed through it. Dee ran back to him and took his hand, and cried urgently, "Hurry, love."

"Go, my love. I'm right behind you." Just then there was another violent tremor and the doorway collapsed, followed by the wall above it. She heard him groan in pain and felt him drop. He groaned again and said with his voice choked with pain, "Save yourself...I'm trapped." Rocks continued to fall around them.

A large piece of ceiling tile glanced off her head and shoulder, and she dropped to her knees stunned. She heard Khelgar shout something as Casavir struggled to free himself of the debris. Her head was spinning from the blow. As the dust cleared she could see the pain in his face. She gasped, "Won't be a widow...Together, or not at all." She could feel the blood running from the wound on her head, but her pain was flowing away with it and in a moment she felt like she was floating. She fought to keep her eyes open as Ammon Jerro and Khelgar both shouted something she couldn't focus on.

Casavir tried in vain to push a large slab trapping him aside, but he was held fast, and he didn't know if the others could get help to them in time. He found her hand and gazed into her eyes, though he wasn't sure if she saw him any longer. He was almost close enough for a final kiss as he said weakly, "Right side...of the gate..." But as the words left his lips he was horrified to see a portal open and several dark winged shapes appear looming behind Dee. One of them began fighting with Khelgar, but the others headed towards her purposefully. He tried to shout a warning, but they swarmed her in a heartbeat, tossing aside stones holding her leg as if they were paper then hoisting her up and spiriting her away into the portal. Ammon Jerro growled a curse and dove into the portal after them just before it closed.

**As for the rest:**

Sir Nevalle was on the wall examining the completed repairs when one of the guards shouted to get his attention. He turned and saw that the dark miasma emanating from the Mere suddenly began rolling back on itself. He watched awestruck for a few minutes then sent the guard for Kana and called for more to travel with a courier to send word to Neverwinter.

Not that the dissipation of the murk had gone unnoticed in Neverwinter. Lord Nasher left his privy council and strode out on his balcony when the Greycloaks began shouting and cheering. "By the gods, they've done it!" He watched for a few minutes then sent his secretary to call his advisors and the Many-starred Cloaks to join him in his throne room to await confirmation and make plans to begin the return of the city's citizens.

Some miles away from the Keep and dangerously close to the claimed lands, Wolf watched the Luskan camp below him from his perch high in a oak tree. He looked up at a strange sound and saw the dank clouds begin to roll back. The Luskans noticed too and began to break camp. Wolf made a bird call to alert the others and climbed down and followed at a safe distance.

Neeshka's apprentice Zeta cocked her head then whispered to the others, who were also pointing at the sky and exclaiming that the Knight Captain must have done it, "Oi, that's the signal; we're movin' out." She rose gracefully and took the lead, still not convinced that the others could keep up or should even be here. But they were here, and that counted for something.

Wolf had sent word to his crew when he and Daeghun returned from scouting, but Zeta was the only one of those who remained at the Keep who responded to his call. Wolf was undeterred and asked Leather and Hiram the cook to come along too since they had helped him before. They met in a room near the main kitchen. Leather had persuaded one of the twins from the Festhall, Mignon, to join them. He explained to the others she could cast mage spells and Sand had been teaching her to use wands and scrolls and had left her a decent selection for the Keep's defense. They had discussed the Luskans and what they thought they intended, then decided to strike out on their own to follow them.

Zeta took the lead. She had decided that Pops was alright because though he was old and his chain mail was noisy, he was strong (and he could cook). But she wasn't sure about the two tarts. Leather was willowy and delicate though she had to concede after watching him fight he was wicked fast with his flail. But in her opinion the other tart looked too plump to keep up with them for long. At least she wasn't in armor. She remembered with scorn how she had showed up to Wolf's meeting carrying a parasol and wearing shoes with ridiculous heels that they convinced her she had to change. They had set out not long after the Captain's company left and had made good time in finding the Luskan camp again. The Luskans' purpose had been the main topic of discussion at the meeting, and they had come to an agreement that they didn't seem to be interested in the Keep or any of the villages. This was no assassin training squad. They decided they must be after the bounty some in Luskan had put on the Knight Captain. But she had done right by them, and this was their way of paying her back.

**Many miles away:**

The portal flared, a warning that someone or something was about to come through. Two women wearing the robes of a red wizard of Thay stepped aside as five creatures out of a nightmare bounded through carrying a still, broken form. One of the women, a dessicated crone, clasped her hands and chortled in glee as she examined their prize then gasped in alarm at her injuries. The younger of the two grabbed a bag of potions and shouted, "Quickly, through the other portal!" The creatures hurried to obey, and she followed, her hand on the shoulder of the last creature.

The crone was muttering to herself when the portal flared again and a man in black robes with glowing tattoos etched into his head jumped through. It took her only a heartbeat to recognize him though it had been years since she last had last seen him. Though he didn't recognize her, he recognized her robes. He was fast with a spell but she was faster and quickly incapacitated him, which was made easier on account of his injuries. "What to do, what to do...I know!" she muttered as she brought a green glass sphere close and leaned over him and spoke an incantation. "To the infirmary with him. That way there is no more innocent blood on my hands, though from what I recall this one is far from innocent."

**Very far away, later that same day:**

Safiya moved through the barrow with nervous determination and glanced over her shoulder from time to time as if she were being chased by fiends. If anyone but her mother had asked she would have refused, but she trusted her even though this was the farthest she had ever been from the academy. She was no hedge wizard who had to make her living adventuring. She had been an instructor at the _Academy of Shapers and Binders_ since she graduated eight years ago with honors. Like many of the scholars, she rarely left the grounds, content to spend her time when out of class in research or in her workshop. She kept herself fit performing several sprints up the three levels of stairs to her mother's private chambers then back down to the instructor's quarters every morning; she found the exertion also helped focus her mind. But her feet were sore because she was unused to walking so far over rough terrain, deep in Rashemen, where the natives would not hesitate to attack her on sight.

She wouldn't be here if it weren't important, she reminded herself. Her mother had sent her on a mysterious rescue mission, though she hadn't told her much other than to look in the lowest level of this barrow for an outlander who was hurt and who would need her assistance in reaching her friend Lianna's theater in the Rashemi city of Mulsantir. She lost track of how long she had been following the passageway, but she could tell she was moving lower. She had spoken a command word which caused the gem embedded in the top of her staff to give off a soft glow when she first entered the barrow, enough to see by, but she hoped not enough to attract the attention of the spirits. Eventually she entered a large chamber. She could make out rune-covered pillars set in the floor in the center in a circle. She could tell the runes were magical, but she couldn't tell from this distance whether the pillars were meant to contain something or summon something.

She crept closer, close enough that she could now see a figure lying prone on the ground. Finally she found her outlander! Now they could get out of here before they were discovered. He was tall and slender, with flaxen hair worn long, down to his shoulders. She thought he must be a northman or be descended from the northern barbarians because of his exotic coloring. He looked peaceful, as if he was sleeping. His head was turned to the side, so she could see his face in profile. He was handsome, though almost effeminate, with a fine brow, high, deep cheekbones, a long, thin nose, and a generous mouth. Her eyes traveled over his muscular shoulders and back down to his narrow waist and firm, round buttocks and long, strong legs. She noticed he was missing his left boot.

She scolded herself for taking such a long look and behaving like a silly first year student rather than the serious scholar she was, but there was something about him she couldn't put her finger on she found very attractive. He looked very young, for she couldn't detect a trace of beard. She shook her head. What was wrong with her? This was certainly out of character for her. She was no simpering virgin, but she had never felt such an instant attraction. Safiya scolded herself again and reminded herself she was here on a rescue mission, not to let herself be smitten by some fair-haired outlander.

It was then that she realized something was glistening on the floor of the chamber around him and commanded her light to flare brightly. She recoiled in horror as she realized he was lying in a pool of blood! That he needed her help was certainly an understatement she planned to discuss with her mother the second she returned home!

The brightness of the light must have awakened him and caused him to stir, groaning something softly that sounded like 'Cas.' He tried to rise and fell back then struggled to turn over, his white shirt ripped open and soaked with blood. There was a hideous wound crudely sutured in the center of his chest. Safiya muttered, "I've seen better work on golems." But to her chagrin and dismay the blood-soaked shirt clung to his body, revealing small but obvious breasts. This wasn't a pretty boy at all, and she scolded herself again for her foolishness.

Dee wasn't sure if this was death. It couldn't be because she hurt too bad, she decided. Fine then, let it come quickly. She screwed her eyes tightly closed as a bright light enveloped her, and she tried to call out for Cas but only managed a weak groan. She had heard there would be a bright light guiding her way to the gray city. But this light was all too real, as was the pain. She tried to turn over and fell back. She took a deep breath and struggled to turn over to face the source of the light, blinking at its brightness and feebly holding a hand up to block it. "Cas.." she croaked. She didn't remember what happened, but she felt like she had taken on a hundred orcs with only a soup spoon. But she could feel her ring slowly healing her.

She heard a command word, and the light dimmed. A female voice said, "You're hurt. Don't move, I'm here to help. Let me dispel these runes that have trapped you here."

Dee's head was splitting and her vision was cloudy, and she pushed her bloody spectacles on top of her head out of her way. She blinked and murmured, "Cas" again, but there was no answer from her husband. Where was he? Where was anyone? She tried not to give in to a rising hysteria. At least rescuers were here, and soon she and Cas would be back at the Keep.

She looked up and could make out a woman judging from her shape, dressed in what looked like a mage's traveling robe. As she peered at her she saw that her head was shaved and Dee could barely make out runic tattoos all over it. For a moment she thought it was the blood still obscuring her vision and coloring her surroundings, but then she realized the woman was wearing a red robe. Something clicked in her memory, and she realized this was a Red Wizard of Thay. But what was she doing here on the Sword Coast? Dee had heard from Grobnar that Harpers had worked relentlessly against the evil rulers of Thay and had been accused of trying to incite a coup to overthrow them. She had to tread carefully until the others got to her.

She called for Casavir again then called for her bear as she struggled to get to her feet. The woman had been extending a hand to help her up, but she jumped back and took a defensive stance and began casting a spell as Dee summoned the bear. Dee frowned at the treachery and reached for her swords, but to her horror the sword of Gith was gone!

Safiya was about to help the outlander up when she heard her say, "Kill." She realized she must be a spellcaster, and a powerful one to cast that spell! Safiya wasn't sure if she was simply threatening her or was actually casting the deadly Power Word: Kill. She had cast several protective spells on herself before she entered the barrow, but she didn't feel the magic ripple over her as would have happened if her greater spell mantle spell negated the outlander's spell.

The woman reached to her weapon belt and drew a short sword, but discovered the scabbard on her right hip was empty and she grasped empty air. What kind of a spellcaster was she if she carried swords? The woman looked around wildly and responded to this development with an angry curse that made Safiya blanch. Safiya quickly countered with a Bigby's Grasping Hand spell, which she hoped would hold the struggling woman in place until she could get her to calm down. Safiya turned on her instructor's voice and admonished the woman sternly. "Calm down! You are not thinking clearly because you're hurt. My name is Safiya, and I'm here to help you!" At that moment a green shimmering appeared in the air, which coalesced into the shape of a dire bear. It looked from the bloody woman to Safiya and growled dangerously.


	42. Into the Fire

Chapter 42 Into the Fire

Usual disclaimers: The characters in this story are owned by Wizards of the Coast, Atari, Obsidian, and a whole lot of other people and not by me, except for an occasional NPC and a bear and paladin lovin' ranger. Now with extra bear lovin' and angst.

**Deep in a Barrow:**

Cillian took one look at his bonded, battered, bloody and restrained by a gigantic hand, and turned to deal with the attacker. He reared up on his hind legs and roared at the woman, a prelude to giving her a sound mauling. Oh yeah, she was gonna get a mauling. A creature that looked like a huge bat swooped down between them. He snarled and swatted at it, and it shrieked and flew up out of reach then flew back to worry him.

The woman's words sunk in through the fog clouding her mind, and Dee flushed scarlet as she realized that the woman mistook her intention when she summoned Cillian. She was lucid enough to understand the woman hadn't hurt her, even if she was a Red Wizard, and though being grappled by the hand was infuriating, it hadn't harmed her either. She called loudly, "Cillian, come, my love." The bear looked from the pest and the stranger to his companion and hesitated for a heartbeat before he dropped to all fours and bounded to her side, where he contented himself with growling at the hand. She turned her head to address the woman. "This is my companion—Cill."

Now it was Safiya's turn to flush as she realized how quickly this meeting could have turned deadly through a silly misunderstanding, and she grumbled that she was a pathetic rescuer. "I'm sorry...but I wasn't told anything about you, so when I heard 'kill'...I thought you were casting a spell at me..." She shrugged sheepishly and dispelled the hand, and Dee dropped to the floor and rubbed her backside with one hand while putting the other arm around Cillian. He still watched the other female and the flying creature warily, growling softly.

After taking a moment to calm the agitated bear, Dee looked up at the woman. "Who are you? What happened? Someone took my sword and the shard in my chest...and my armor, my pack, and...and my boot! What the hells?"

Safiya raised an eyebrow. "_You_ don't know who butchered you? I can't tell you as I just got here myself, but there's some armor lying over here and a cloak." She was about to bend down to hand it to her but she balked at the amount blood on both.

Dee replied testily, "If I knew, I wouldn't ask, would I..." She looked around, peering into the darkness. "Where's Cas? Where are the others?" She looked around again and shouted for her husband, beginning to panic. Cillian sniffed the air but reported no trace of the paladin other than a slight trace of his scent that lingered on her.

Safiya looked around anxiously and shushed her. She spoke slowly as if talking to a child. "Quiet, please! Look, I know you're hurt and confused, but we have to get out of here. Now listen closely. I'm Safiya. Your companions aren't here. You're in a barrow deep under Rashemi soil. All I can tell you is my mother sent me to meet you here and help you get to her friend Lianna in Mulsantir. Trust me, she's going to do some explaining when we get there. But we must make haste. The guardians of this barrow will sense our presence and awaken." Safiya reached a slender tawny hand into a small bag hanging on her belt and withdrew a much larger pack. "I picked up some things I thought you could use. There's a bow and a crossbow with arrows and bolts, and a short sword. I'm sorry, there wasn't time to gather anything else besides a few healing potions." She smiled helpfully and handed the pack to Dee. "I'm not sure you're even strong enough to use any of the weapons from the looks of you, so stay behind me."

Dee looked askance at the woman and muttered, "Yeah, right," as she took it and examined the short sword, giving it a trial swing through the air. She would have to be at death's door before she took up a position behind a mage. "Better than nothin' I guess. I can use both a bow and a crossbow, but I need to clean off my spectacles or I can't shoot very far." She hung the quiver on her belt and frowned as the woman's words sunk in. "Wait, did you say Rashemen? How the hells did I get here, and who stole my sword? Who cut the shard out of my chest?"

Safiya replied in her scolding instructor's voice, "I'm sorry, but as I _told_ you, I don't know anything about your sword or how you got here. Oh, I but almost forgot. I also brought an essence that will add a ice enchantment to the blade. Let me see it." She took it back from Dee and removed another bag from her belt pouch. She opened it and slipped the sword and a glistening silvery essence inside then lay it on the ground and cast what looked to Dee from the sounds and gestures like an ice storm spell. When she had finished, she opened the bag and handed the sword to Dee. It now sparkled with the power of the ice element. "There, that should help if we encounter a guardian. Are you strong enough to go on? Do you need a healing potion first?"

Dee ruffled Cillian's fur then took it back and slipped it in her scabbard and took the potion. "Thanks. My ankle hurts like the hells, but it's healing." She looked down at herself as she stooped to put on her armor. "Gods, I must be a sight." She raised an eyebrow when she noticed that someone had taken her Harpers pin, which had been in a pocket inside her brigandine, and pinned it to her shirt as if to alert anyone who found her of her affiliation. Safiya smirked as Dee fastened it to the inside of her ruined shirt.

She looked around to see if she could spot her other boot and noticed a skeleton behind her on the ground near where she had been lying. She pointed it out to Safiya. "Look there. Odd, isn't it? He looks like he just crawled in here and died. Or mayhap these runes trapped him here?"

Safiya looked down at the skeleton then at the runes. "Yes, perhaps once he got in here the runes prevented him from leaving. I had to dispel them for _you_ to leave. Unfortunately, we don't have too much information on Rashemi runes at the academy, but this one here?" She pointed at one. "It's called 'The Dancing Man,' and it is designed for binding."

Dee drew close to one of the runes and put her hand over the figure. Safiya shouted "No!," but it was too late. The air wavered, and then Dee heard voices then saw a woman with golden skin smiling at her, eyes shining with love, and a little boy laughing and playing. These faded, and she was standing before a gigantic wall full of writhing, screaming people. She dropped weakly to her knees and put her head in her hands to block out the horror.

"What happened?" Safiya asked, her voice full of concern.

"I think I had a vision." Dee explained breathlessly after a moment what she saw to Safiya, but she didn't tell her that the woman in her vision looked very much like her. "Then I saw what could only be the Wall of the Faithless. I don't know what to make of it."

Safiya had no idea either. "It could be memories trapped by the runes. Perhaps they belonged to that unfortunate man lying there or others who have come here."

Kaji flew down from his hiding place near the ceiling and hovered behind Safiya. Dee asked, "Is that your familiar? He's very unusual. My friend Sand only has a cat."

Safiya beamed with pride at Kaji then smiled at Dee. "Yes, this is Kaji. He's a homuculus, and I created him myself. I've made others, but none as good as he. He's my master work." She put her finger to her lips at a loud rumble and looked around nervously. "I fear they've awakened. We really need to get moving."

Dee had no choice but to go with this Red Wizard for now until she could remember what had happened. At least they weren't in Thay; Grobnar had been there once on Harper business and had nothing good to say about that land. Dee looked down at her foot, glad she had worn thick wool socks. "I suppose there's nothing for it but to wait until I get get to the city. Come on, my love. Leave Kaji alone." Cillian chuffed at her and followed after a last snarl at Kaji, who was flitting around the bear just out of reach.

The walked through the winding passageways, and it wasn't long before they encountered the first barrow guardians, huge earth elementals. They were a hard fight, especially because Dee was still so weak that she thought she fought like a novice. Once they fell, Safiya used a silver tool she called a 'shaper's alembic' to withdraw their elemental essences from their remains, storing them in a special container until she had enough to use for enchantments. Dee watched in rapt attention as she explained what she was doing. "Ooh, Sand would _love _to have one of those. Mayhap I can pick up one for him in the city?"

Safiya pretended not to hear. The last thing she intended to do was turn knowledge of Thayan alchemy over to some foreign hedge wizard.

They stopped to rest for a few moments at a pool of water fed by a stream that ran down from from the surface far above them. Dee sniffed first then tasted a few drops of it and pronounced it safe as she filled her empty water skin. Cillian joined her and they drank deeply, and Safiya and Kaji joined them and refilled the water skin she brought with her. It hadn't occurred to her to bring any extra food for her journey, let alone for another person with a hungry bear. Cillian sniffed a large glowing mushroom and let Dee know it was good for food before he devoured it. She and Safiya weren't _that_ hungry yet though. Someone had camped here before; there was the remains of a fire, and behind a large rock Dee spotted the glint of silver and went to retrieve it. She found a rotting rucksack with a few scrolls in a case still inside it, which she tossed to Safiya, and a book, _The City of Judgment._

Dee insisted before they went any further on taking a few minutes for removing her armor and washing off the itchy drying blood in the pool over Safiya's objection, pointing out that the scent of blood would attract predators to them, not to mention insects. "All I need is to make it out of here just to be felled by some Rashemi bug that burrowed into an open wound."

Safiya replied, "Very well, but we should move on as soon as we've rested," then added with a sly grin, "but I agree, you reek." Dee chuckled despite herself and stripped to her small clothes and stepped into the pool, grimacing as she gingerly examined the ugly stitches over her heart, thinking that 'butchered' was an understatement. Safiya chuckled at her lacy beribboned small clothes, so out of place on this tall, muscular woman. "My, those are certainly...dainty."

Dee flushed crimson. "Yeah...My husband likes 'dainty.' He gave me these for my birthday yesterday. At least I _think_ it was yesterday." For all she knew, it had been days, or even months since they left the Keep. She sighed and murmured, "Cas, where are you?"

Safiya felt a keen disappointment at hearing Dee was married that she couldn't explain. She didn't ask about him, but then again she didn't really care to know anything about him. She pondered for a moment where this animosity towards a stranger because of another stranger might be coming from and was at a loss. It was so unlike her.

Safiya knelt to help her rinse the blood out of her hair, explaining that at the academy, and indeed all Thayan schools, no one over the age of eleven has hair, and how one of first lessons students learned was to remove their hair with a cantrip, which was also part of the entrance exam. She could see an ugly fresh scar on her scalp. "You must have taken quite a blow to the head. I wouldn't be surprised if your skull was fractured, which no doubt explains your memory loss." She shook her head. She was no healer, but she could see that either that one or the wound over her heart could have been fatal, and certainly both together should have been. "No wonder you can't remember how you got here."

Dee shrugged. "Either I fell through a portal or someone brought me here. Only thing I can figure is I must be alive because of my ring of regeneration. And Cas has one too!" Remembering that detail gave her hope. She decided the shirt was hopeless though as much from the rip as from the blood stains as she held it up before rinsing it. She sighed, "And I got this from Cas for my birthday too. It's real cotton all the way from..." She flushed as she realized that it was from around here somewhere. "I don't suppose..." She turned her head to look at Safiya over her shoulder. "I hate to ask but...Could you cast that mending cantrip or the one that cleans things? Sand always had those memorized."

Safiya wasn't surprised. "No doubt this Sand had those on hand so he was always immaculate, am I right?"

Dee chuckled in reply. "Yeah, that's Sand, and not one strand of his long silky hair out of place."

Safiya resisted the urge to roll her eyes. She had heard tales of how easy it was to impress these warrior types with the simplest of spells. "Put everything in a pile together over here. Better than you catching a chill wearing wet clothes." Dee quickly complied, putting her spectacles, which had a crack in one of the lenses, on top, and stood back to watch in amazement, which only proved Safiya's point to her.

They shared the few morsels that remained of Safiya's food; Dee thumbed through the book while Cillian stood guard. Someone had added annotations in the margins about searching for another book called _The Lamentations of the Dead _ that was to be found in something called 'the death god's vault.' It gave her a funny feeling in the pit of her stomach, but Safiya didn't know what that was. Dee mused aloud that Aldanon wasn't the only scholar who felt free to embellish a book with notes. She examined the cover and saw that it was made out of thick tooled leather. It was a beautiful book and would be a fine addition to her library at the Keep.

But with a sigh, Dee cut the binding and tore the cover apart, ignoring Safiya's shocked gasp. It was just long enough to rest her foot on with a bit of trimming using the dagger. She reluctantly cut a few strips off the bottom of her cloak and used it to bind the book cover around her foot, grinning and holding her foot up when she finished her makeshift sandal. She shrugged at Safiya's bemused smirk. "Beats walkin' to Mulsantir in my sock. Pity about the cloak though. Lord Nasher has the Many-starred Cloaks enchant these for his new knights, and I don't know if I ruined the enchantments."

Safiya raised an eyebrow. "_You're_ a knight?" She didn't recognize the lord's name, but she had heard of the Neverwintan Cloaktower mages, who served the city's ruler. This woman was becoming more intriguing.

Dee replied with a self-depreciating shrug. "I'm a lot of things—a ranger first, and my friend Neesh taught me a thing or two about locks and traps, but I am a knight of Neverwinter too. At least Lord Nasher thinks so, though sometimes I still don't believe it."

They moved on through the barrow, their way lit by Safiya's staff. They hadn't gone far when their path was blocked by two large wolf spirits. The larger of the two snarled at them. "We were aware of your passage below, Red Wizard, but you entered alone." It sniffed with disdain at Dee. "_This one_ bears a wound that should have been fatal, yet you live. But we sense the wrongness about you, something that laid waste to spirits across Rashemen. You will not leave this barrow."

Dee was about to use her ranger's ability to calm animals to try to reason with the wolf spirit, but instead to her horror she felt something fly from deep inside her and force its way out through her mouth. Long ribbon-like feelers reached out with lightning speed and enveloped the wolf spirit completely. They appeared to absorb its essence then instantly retreated back inside her, all within the space of a few heartbeats. The other wolf spirit yelped and ran off as fast as it could. "What the hells was that?," Dee gasped wide-eyed when it was over. Cillian sniffed her and growled and backed away a few steps.

Safiya stared in astonished horror as Kaji screeched and hid behind her. "What did you do? That was neither arcane nor divine magic. I've _never_ seen its like." She wondered again what Dee meant about being "a lot of things."

But Dee looked just as astonished. "By the gods, Safiya, I swear I don't know. But...I feel stronger now. My wounds are completely healed, and my ankle doesn't hurt! But let's get movin' before the other one comes back with reinforcements." For a moment she thought of the skeleton in that _binding circle_ where Safiya found her, and the bile rose up from her stomach as it occurred to her that someone might have deliberately brought here here as a host for whatever had been bound there. She knew from her talks with Ammon Jerro what sort of creatures had to be bound for the protection of those who dealt with them. Her stomach churned. If she had eaten anything more than a few bites, she would have lost them now. But she subdued and banished the thought to a room in the back of her mind and locked it away so she wouldn't have to deal with it for now.

There was nothing for it but to move on. But more than once Dee suspected they were retracing their steps, and then she was sure of it when they came across the remains of a guardian they had already destroyed. Cillian noticed too and let Dee know he didn't understand why she didn't take the lead, so Dee spoke up. "No offense, Safiya, but are you sure we're going the right way? Shouldn't we have found the way out by now?"

Safiya scowled and looked around the chamber they were in, hating to admit that Dee was right. "I _know_ the way! There should be a passage right over there that led up. I think the spirits of this barrow must have closed it off to trap us inside. That's the only explanation. There's no point in digging either, because they can reshape the earth faster than we can move it. We must find another way out or we'll starve to death in here after we eat all of those fungi your bear is so fond of." She hoped her voice didn't betray her nervousness.

They entered another passageway they had missed before in which dirt gave way to a stone floor, which led to a pair of metal doors. Safiya ran her hand over the intricate design on the doors. "This appears to be an Imaskari structure of some kind. Believe it or not, this building was once on the surface. We might find a way out but..."

"But?," Dee inquired as she watched Kaji check for traps. "Yeah, I know, there's no tellin' what's inside there. But mayhap the upper levels are still above the surface." She could tell Safiya wanted to weigh the possibilities, but they didn't have time. Something else occurred to her too. "There could be a portal inside. I think from what I've read of the Illefarn empire that they had contact with the Imaskari people. They used song portals to travel between their cities, so mayhap they traveled beyond too." She didn't wait for Safiya to reply. She turned the latch and pushed the door open as Safiya gasped, "Wait!"

But there was no portal that would lead her home, though Safiya did find an dormant Imaskari golem. She skillfully mixed a salve that would reactivate it as Dee told her about the Illefarn golem at her Keep, blushing as she realized she was beaming at Dee like a first-year mixing her first potion. She studied the workbench, afraid to meet Dee's eyes again. "It can carry anything we find that's salvageable and fight against the guardians on the way out, though the enchantment will fail before we get very far from here."

As they explored the ruin, Dee found a long sword in a room in a display of armor and other weapons. She gave it a few practice swings. In her experience, swords that were fancy enough to be put on display rarely were crafted to be of use in battle, but it was a beautiful blade and well balanced. Yet it was not the Sword of Gith, even after Safiya placed a fire enchantment on it. The fire energy flowed along just under its surface, but it didn't thrum through her with power like _her_ sword. It wasn't the same.

They searched the rooms that weren't closed off by earthen walls, but found not even a window leading out, so they returned to the earthen tunnels and the shrines of dead animal spirits. Eventually they found what was left of an Imaskari library down another hidden passage, but still no way out. They were trying not to despair, but it was looking more and more like they might indeed be trapped in the barrow. They stopped to rest and consider their options, which weren't many.

Safiya kicked the ground in frustration. "Well that's one way of making sure we don't get out of here. There's nothing more we can do unless we could somehow make an offering to appease them. Spirits are capricious beings, and they may forgive our offense if we could find an offering to burn to them over there." She nodded at a large basin carved into a rock.

"It probably doesn't help that we've taken the offerings we've come across and angered them further." But that gave Dee an idea, and she dug through her rucksack. "Something like this pouch of herbs?" Dee had taken it to use to start a campfire once they camped. She grinned at Safiya and placed the pouch in the bowl. Safiya grinned back and used a cantrip to set light to it, and a few minutes later as the aromatic smoke filled the chamber, they heard a rumble and watched in amazement as the earth parted and opened a passage in the wall. Cillian could already smell the fresh air, and soon roots appeared growing down from trees on the surface. Their steps became lighter the closer they got.

They arrived at a burial chamber that was larger than any they had encountered thus far. In the center there was a raised stone platform that served as a final resting place for a massive bear's skeleton. Surely this was where the spirit of the 'god' who ruled this barrow rested. As if it read her mind, the air around them wavered and sparkled with every color of the rainbow then coalesced into the form of a huge bear. Dee stared at him in awe. She had never seen anything so magnificent! His thick snow-white fur on his head and back shone like the sun on fresh snow. He was adorned with a rainbow of elemental colors from the blue of the deepest sea on his feet to the crimson and orange of fire that spread up his limbs ending in golden swirls. Dee's first barely restrained impulse was to bow before him, and Cillian didn't hesitate to do so.

He narrowed his small golden eyes at her and snarled angrily, "What is it that smells so foul and disturbs my slumber?"

Dee swallowed hard. She knew better than to awaken a mortal bear from its hibernation, and here she had awakened a god. She replied reverently, "I am called Dee Farlong, Great One. I have no quarrel with you, god of bears. I am simply a stranger who has been taken far from my homeland. Let us pass, and we will leave this place in peace."

He replied in a deep voice that rumbled like thunder. "I am Okku, king of bears, as your companion knows. In life I ruled the creatures of the world above, and in death I guard this world below. I can _smell_ the foul hunger that wakens in you, even if he cannot. If the little cub understood, he would join me in ending your life. You do not know what you are, little one, but by my oath you will not leave this barrow." Cillian looked from him to Dee hesitantly before he drew closer to his bonded and chuffed at Okku.

Safiya held her staff defensively determined to protect this stranger, though she didn't understand why. "I don't care _what _you think you smell, bear spirit. You will not have her. Powerful as you surely are, I have shaped and bound things far greater than you."

The bear cocked his head to look at her and growled, "And you, Thayan. Does your ally know the secrets _you_ hide? What grief you bear beyond measure? Bah, enough words! None of you will leave my barrow alive!"

Dee suspected what he meant—the voices Safiya was assaulted by in the lower barrow that she had dismissed as 'nothing.' But she couldn't let herself be distracted by that now. Dee drew her swords and assumed a defensive posture in front of Safiya as Cillian took his place beside her. She said indignantly, "Then we will fight. But you're wrong about me. All I want is to leave this place in peace and go home."

The massive bear charged as Safiya finished a protective spell. Cillian leaped to intercept him and blocked him from attacking Dee directly, though he suffered for it as Okku smacked him aside. He fell heavily and Dee cursed and attacked Okku with a flurry of blows while Safiya attacked him with a missile storm spell and the golem pummeled him with its iron fists. Once they engaged, Dee no longer had any hesitation about destroying the spirit bear. She had _tried_ to parley with him. Now he was simply one more obstacle keeping her from getting home. Finally, after Safiya cast a meteor swarm spell and Dee connected with three more blows of her swords, he glowed brightly then seemed to implode.

Dee's heart was pounding as she spun around looking for him, expecting him to reform and renew his attack. "Did we...kill him?"

Safiya looked around the chamber as Kaji flew up through an entryway that promised to lead them to the surface. "No, because he's already dead. All we do is disperse his essence, but for how long I can't tell you. I suggest we get out of here quickly."

She didn't have to tell Dee twice. Cillian bounded after Kaji, and after a glance back to see if Safiya and the golem were following, Dee sprinted after him. The sun had already set when they first broke the surface, but they took deep gulps of fresh air then headed down a well-worn path which lead them to a dirt road. Using Safiya's mage light and Sand's light coin they traveled quickly in silence until they had put the barrow behind them by more than a few miles. Dee finally broke the silence as they stopped for a drink of water. "How much farther is Mulsantir?"

Safiya studied a map her mother had given her. "I think we must be about here because the road is turning away from the river. It looks too far, even if we were to walk all night. I suppose we may as well make camp. This is as good a place as any, and I need to study my spells anyway." She was also more tired than she wanted to admit.

Dee snorted. "Good as any if you want an ambush. I'll scout ahead." She and Cillian sprinted off over Safiya's objections, who was left wondering how such an impulsive woman had managed to live this long. But before she had walked much further, Dee returned with news of a safe campsite near the bottom of a nearby hill and a pair of rabbits to share that Cillian had flushed out. It was not quite a cave, though it was wide enough that they could all fit inside. It overlooked the road, but was shielded enough by trees so that even with a fire it wasn't visible. And there was a wide, slow stream nearby so they could refill their water skins.

Kaji gathered wood and Safiya made a fire with another cantrip while Dee dressed a rabbit and threaded it on a thick stick and stuck it between two rocks so it hung over the fire. She gave the other one to Cillian, who returned from digging up some large tubers for them to roast. Safiya noted with distaste that the bear had brought them back in his mouth, but she was too hungry to turn them down.

Kaji was not to be outdone and flew high into a nearby tree to pick some golden fruits that they could see even in the dark. He brought them an armload and flew back and cackled gleefully as he tossed some down for Cillian to fetch until he tired of the game. Dee had never seen their like but thought they were some kind of apple, but Safiya told her they were pears. They ate their supper and talked about Dee's home. Dee told her about Casavir, his bright blue eyes, shy smile, and sly humor.

"Isn't it difficult being married to a paladin? You don't seem the type to tolerate the restrictions such a union would require," Safiya said skeptically.

Dee smiled brightly thinking about him. "There are a lot of false notions about what paladins can and can't do. Mostly it depends on the god they serve. I admit it took me a while to get used to him. I'm ashamed to say I used to joke with my friends about whose job it was at the temple to shove a stick up the new paladins' backsides. But I got to know him and discovered what a kind, faithful, gentle friend he was, and then I learned what a generous lover he was. We haven't been together for even a year, but the time we've had together has been golden."

Dee grew quiet thinking about him and looked on the verge of tears, so Safiya tried to get her mind off him by changing the subject. She told her about her academy and about some of her fellow instructors, and some of her best, and worst students. She told her about her mother Nefris and told Dee how difficult she could be at times, no-nonsense and unaffectionate, though Safiya knew she did love her in her fashion.

Dee was struck by how much Safiya's mother sounded like Daeghun, and it gave them another common bond. But she didn't want to think about Daeghun now. She needed to get home, and dwelling on her home and those she loved only made her depressed and distracted her from her purpose. Dee was feeling more at ease with this Red Wizard, and it occurred to her after a while that she reminded her of Shandra. This was a Red Wizard, she reminded herself. It could all be an act to get her to trust her and let her guard down. She knew nothing about her.

Dee encouraged her to talk further by asking questions about her mother, who she was beginning to suspect had something to do with her abduction. For it was becoming clear that was what happened. Being here was no accident of falling through a portal. She turned her attention back to Safiya, who was telling her that her mother was the head mistress of the academy, and had been as long as she could remember. Without thinking because her mind had been elsewhere, Dee said bluntly, "That must have helped, having your mother in charge."

Safiya sat back and said coolly, "If you're implying I didn't _earn_ my position..."

Dee held her hand up as she realized how bad that sounded. "Hold on, I meant nothing of the kind. I only meant...I didn't mean it _that_ way. Forgive me. But when I think on it more, I can see having your mother in such a position must have made it more difficult for you because you had to prove yourself in ways that the other students, and then the other instructors, didn't. And you probably still do."

Safiya put her arms around herself and stared at the fire pensively. Dee had touched a very raw nerve, for she indeed had dealt with those kinds of whispered insinuations and accusations since she was a first year student, and it hadn't gotten easier when she became an instructor. It had cost her friends who didn't trust her not to take a confidence to her mother, as well as lovers. The few times when she had allowed someone to get close to her, it had ended badly when it became obvious she was being exploited because of her loneliness. She sighed sadly. "It's true. Even now I don't know if someone is genuine or only using me to get closer to my mother, and I'm afraid it's made me cynical. But enough talk. We should get some sleep so we can get an early start. The golem can protect us."

Dee hesitated, knowing better than not setting watch shifts, but she was tired, and she had a empty, gnawing feeling that the food hadn't filled. But at least she wasn't suffering the attacks of nausea she had for the past few tendays. She knelt to offer her prayers to Meilikki and Tyr, and added a prayer to Kelemvor that he would allow Casavir to wait for her if he came into His presence before she did. She wrapped up in her cloak and stretched out on the far side of the fire next to Cillian and fell asleep almost at once.

Safiya took out her spell book and selected her spells then lay on the hard ground trying to get comfortable. But she had never slept out of doors like this. She envied Dee her tattered cloak, for she had brought nothing with her other than a peasant dress and head scarf as a disguise. On the few occasions when she had accompanied her mother outside of the academy, they always had slaves and homoculi to attend them while they traveled, and there was always a silk tent at the very least or an inn and a bed to sleep in. And it was cold here too. She hadn't thought to bring a cloak since it was early autumn and warm enough during the day, in Thay at least. But this was Rashemen. There were spells made for travelers' comfort, but she had never had use for those before now. Why hadn't she taken a few scrolls before she left?

And then the rain came, slowly at first, then building to a downpour. She was grudgingly thankful Dee had found them a campsite that was covered as she sat up and stoked the fire then curled up with Kaji.

**Back in the Mere:**

Karnwyr whimpered. He struggled, but his hindquarters were pinned under a rock. His instinct was to chew his leg off to free himself, but he saw it was more than his leg that was trapped. Bishop groaned when he heard the whimper, surprised he was still alive. But then he hurt too much to be dead. He couldn't see, but he could hear the wolf just ahead of him. Using what strength remained, he was able to wedge one arm and his legs under the slab holding the wolf. He pushed hard and heard and felt something in his leg snap, and he screamed. But the rock shifted, enough to free Karnwyr anyway. Bishop slumped back and groaned loudly as the rock settled on him. Karnwyr inched forward trying to squeeze between slabs of rock. He could smell the swamp air very close. He stopped and whimpered at Bishop, but he heard nothing more from his bonded. He dragged himself slowly outside inch by inch, whimpering at Bishop again from time to time. But the ranger never answered.

Casavir tried again in vain to move the rocks on top of him. He knew he should be dead and free from this agony. But the ring healed him slowly. The trouble was, it didn't heal him enough to counter the damage from the stones pressing on him. It hurt to breathe, and he feared that meant his lungs were filling with fluid. If he could have reached his finger he would have torn the ring off to free himself from what remained of his life. But he willed himself to hang on and pray the others got out and would send rescuers to free him so he could find Dee. The top of her boot stuck out from under a rock, where her foot had been trapped until the monstrosities snatched her away. He stared hard at it to focus his mind on prayers for her to get his mind off the pain.

Grobnar threw himself on top of the construct as a slab of rock slammed to the floor in front of them. He whistled a few discordant notes, and a small door sprung open on its back. He slid inside and pulled it shut just as another slab of rock knocked the golem to the ground. There was just enough room for him to sit with his knees drawn up to his chest, but he knew he could hold on until the ceiling stopped falling. His biggest fear was that the golem would be buried in the debris, but he felt he had enough food and water to hold out for a few days.

Sand completed an incantation and transformed himself into an iron golem. He made himself a shelter by grabbing and muscling one huge slab that was about to flatten him against a wall at an angle. There was just enough room for him to hunker down inside his makeshift shelter and wait for the chaos to end. Elanee screamed as a large slab fell in front of her. Zhjaeve had disappeared from sight. She saw a chance and transformed into a vole, small enough to slip into a gap between the rocks. She spotted the slab leaning against a wall and scurried to it to wait until she felt it was safe to go on. She squeaked loudly in fear as she realized it was already occupied, but then she recognized Sand's features. He whispered her name and extended a hand to her, and she ran up his arm and settled on his lap.

Khelgar sprang on top of the falling slabs and leaped from one to another towards the exit following Neeshka, using his _qi _ power to protect himself from any more falling from above. Neeshka clutched her lucky coin so tightly it left an impression in her hand as she danced gracefully between falling rocks, though her tail almost got trapped once. They saw light and reached a door, tumbled outside, and hugged the ground. After a moment they dared to raise their heads then sat up. Neeshka let out a loud, keening wail as the earth rumbled from the force of the collapse. Khelgar threw his arms around her, and she did the same. When it was over they didn't move, too overwhelmed to let go.

Hours had passed. Sir Nevalle paced in the audience chamber as Kana attended to her paperwork, though it was very late in the evening. Aldanon snored loudly in a chair that had been brought out for his comfort; one of his apprentices dozed sitting beside him on the floor, leaning against his knee. It had been far too long. They must have succeeded because the ominous gloom from the Mere was gone, but their failure to return in the hours that had passed was telling.

Nevalle strode over to Kana's desk and stood looking down at her. He smiled tightly as he noticed she was still looking at the same document that had been before her at least an hour ago. It was the only crack in her cool facade that betrayed her concern. She gave him an inquiring look. "It has been too long, and either they were prevented somehow from using the tome to get back here, or..." Neither of them wanted him to finish that thought. "Therefore, I would like a search party to leave at Lathander's first light. See to it. I must send word of this development to Lord Nasher."

Kana sighed in relief and saluted him crisply then strode out the door to the village. Due to their rank, the newlywed sergeants Starling had been assigned a cottage near the inn. She had been hoping Nevalle would make this decision and had been making plans while she pretended to work. Sargent Bevil Starling was the logical choice to lead the squad because he knew the Mere. She felt bad about sending him away when he and Katriona had just been wed, and it had occurred to her as she crossed the road that she should send two squads.

She shook her head at Daeghun, who looked up at her from fletching arrows by lantern light as he waited for news. She said tersely, "We're sending out a search party tomorrow at first light," and she continued on until she reached the cottage and rapped sharply on the door.

Daeghun nodded in reply as she passed. His pack was sitting beside him. He put away his tools and shouldered his pack. He didn't have the same need to wait for light that the humans had. But then he thought better of it. The rescuers would need a scout, so he waited and entered his reverie under the spreading branches of an oak tree, though he burned with the need to find his foster child, and Elanee of the Mere.


	43. A Good Man is Hard to Find

Chapter 43 A Good Man is Hard to Find

Usual disclaimers: The characters are owned by Bioware, Obsidian, and a whole boatload of others and not me, with the exception of a bear and paladin-lovin' ranger and an occasional NPC. Some dialog is paraphrased from MotB, and a few liberties were taken with spells. Then again, who knows what new spells were in the Tome of Iltkazar, so there. As always, reviews or comments appreciated, as well as pm discussions.

She dreamed that she was standing on a flat, gray plane leading to a gray city. She peered all around into the vast emptiness searching for her beloved, but he wasn't to be found. She ran like fiends were chasing her to the city and asked people on the street if they had seen her beloved, but they laughed at her. She asked the Watch, but they ignored her or shoved her aside. She woke up with a start, her heart pounding, and murmured, "Oh Cas, where are you?"

The rest of the night passed uneventfully, and after they awoke Safiya washed her face in the stream before putting on her disguise. Dee asked after she cleaned her teeth, "Your hair...how often do you have to cast that cantrip to get rid of it?"

Safiya ran her hand over her scalp and smiled. "Oh, we add make it permanent as soon as we can cast the spell. It's considered a rite of passage among Red Wizards."

Dee broke down their camp while she waited for Safiya, leaving as little trace of their passing as possible. She smirked at Safiya's plain, baggy beige small clothes as she caught sight of her putting on her disguise. _Those_ would not be considered 'dainty' anywhere—more like something like Granny Pierson used to hang on her clothesline back home. She helped Safiya adjust the scarf around her head so it covered her baldness when she finished dressing, throwing one end over her shoulder. "I think besides new boots, the first thing we have to get in Mulsantir is a decent cloak for you. Your teeth are chattering." She took off her cloak and put it around Safiya's shoulders and fastened it. "Take this. I'm warm enough with my gambeson and brigandine."

Safiya frowned dismissively, yet she didn't refuse the offered cloak, and she found herself flushing as Dee leaned close and fastened it. "How gallant. You really _are_ a knight. I don't know if there's much point in buying one if I go right back to Thay, but I hadn't thought about how I'll get back. I suppose I assumed mother would have made arrangements with her friend."

Dee couldn't help but notice she looked lost for a moment before she recovered herself. "Your best bet would be to travel with a caravan then unless you have other means."

"I...suppose I'll have to join a caravan if my mother didn't make some kind of arrangements." Safiya felt a momentary annoyance at that, but this was obviously an emergency which had just come up, so her mother could be forgiven. Besides, she was a grown woman and perfectly capable of finding her own way back to Thay, not to mention a formidable wizard, and perhaps this was her mother's way of showing her that. She wasn't confident that Dee was ready to strike out on her own either, so she was reluctant to leave her. She seemed on the verge of tears at times, and still had no memory of how she got here and only vague recollections of the battle they had fought beforehand.

Dee for her part was torn between doing the right thing, which would be making sure Safiya got back home safely, and her pressing need to find her own way home. Thay was to the south, while from what she remembered, The Sword Coast was to the west, practically on the other side of the world. Thinking about how far away home was and her dream of the night before made her so blue she wanted to cry. But she had to hold herself together. At the same time she was furious at being stolen away from her love and the death she had accepted.

"Come on, suck it up," she muttered, wishing Cas was here wrap her in his strong arms and calm her like he did when her emotions threatened to overwhelm her, as they had lately. She had to keep a clear head if she ever hoped to get back. She took a deep, calming breath and decided to compromise. "I'll make sure you find a safe caravan to travel with before I leave." She squinted at the sun, which had risen above the horizon. "We best get movin' if we're going to make the city before dark."

After Kaji picked a few more pears for them to eat later, they set off to Mulsantir, slogging along the muddy road. But the day grew warm so the road dried out in no time, though their feet were caked with mud, and the hem of Safiya's dress became thick with muck. At Dee's suggestion she pulled her skirt up and let it hang out over her sash. Dee explained that was how farm women who wore skirts arranged their them when they worked in the fields. This led to her describing farm life to a fascinated Safiya. Dee found it amusing that she had never even seen a farm except in the distance while accompanying her mother to a convocation of the heads of the various academies. But then Dee had met too many people in Neverwinter who had no real idea where the food on their plate came from to be very surprised.

They passed the morning this way, with Dee telling her about her life for the past two years. Despite her feelings of distrust for this Red Wizard ( it wasn't lost on Dee that she could be considered her prisoner, for now anyway), she was beginning to feel something akin to their being old friends reunited after a long absence.

Safiya in turn told her about Thay as they walked, about the council of mages called the eight zulkirs that ran the country. Dee knew from Grobnar that their head was the archlich Szass Tam, and that the Thayans constantly schemed against their neighbors, including the Rashemi. He had told her the Harpers suspected that they were now spreading their influence and gaining power through covert trafficking of slaves, drugs, and the blackest magics through their embassies. It was little wonder Safiya had to wear a disguise while in Rashemen.

Dee kept her knowledge to herself, though she did ask Safiya a few carefully worded questions to try to discover where her new companion stood. However, Safiya seemed to care for little outside of her classes and her research on homunculi. She didn't have a 'someone' waiting for her back in Thay, though she did admit to taking a lover from among her fellow instructors on occasion and seemed to have found acceptance with her encroaching spinsterhood. She also didn't have any particular ambition to take her mother's place as the headmistress. No, give her a library for research and her laboratory, and that was all she required to ensure her happiness. Dee was struck by how much she reminded her of Sand in this respect.

There were few travelers on the road, and the few they did meet were not overly friendly. One old woman traveling in what looked to Dee like a small cottage built on the bed of a horse-drawn wagon stuck her head out the window and made gestures at them as if warding off evil before withdrawing like an misshapen turtle into its shell and slamming her shutters closed. Safiya wasn't bothered. She told Dee the Rashemi were distrustful of foreigners and superstitious by nature. It was clear to Dee that Safiya held them in contempt and considered them little more than savages. As far as not encountering any merchants, Safiya pointed out they wouldn't reach the Golden Way until they were nearly at their destination, so it wasn't a surprise that they hadn't encountered any merchants either.

But the land was wild and beautiful; the very air seemed more alive, and it made Dee realize how civilized the wild places of the Sword Coast were in comparison. Dee longed to explore, and she longed for Casavir to be with her to enjoy it with her. She banished that thought and forced herself to identify the trees, which were already showing the change of colors, to get her mind off him. Some of them she had never seen before, though a few were oddly familiar, but she couldn't remember where she could have seen them. She collected a few leaves and put them into Safiya's rucksack. She discovered birds she had never seen before and practiced the long whistling call of one of them until she got it right, and delighted Kaji when she taught it to him. She also remarked to Safiya that it was strange that they came across as many spirit animals as living animals; she expected that in the barrow, but not out here. Safiya explained they were called telethors, and their spirits stayed behind as guardians of the land after their deaths.

Cillian smelled the smoke of the city long before they could see the city itself, and after they crested a hill they spotted a high sand-colored stone wall in the distance. It was so big Dee could have made it out even without her spectacles. It was early afternoon, and the wind was picking up as heavy clouds gathered, threatening more rain that evening. About that time the golem had a sudden seizure and crashed to the ground. Dee grinned as she knelt beside it to untie the shields on its back. "Guess that means I'm the pack mule now, unless you can fit all this stuff in your bag. But that means we're stopping by the merchants to sell it off for sure before we go find your mother's friend."

Her tone told Safiya that there would be no argument. She was tired, and Safiya was pale with exhaustion even though Dee had slowed her pace after she saw that Safiya was struggling to keep up with her. The makeshift sandal had given out a few miles back, as had her sock, so she had removed the other boot and had gone barefoot.

But she had another reason to delay their meeting. "Besides, I've been thinking we should see what we can find out about this Lienna woman before we casually stroll into her theater and turn ourselves over to her. You said yourself you don't know anything about her."

Safiya wanted to argue that she trusted her mother not to send her into a dangerous situation. But she had to admit her mother _had_ sent her to that barrow with very little preparation. "You're right, Dee. I _don't_ know a thing about Lienna. In fact, it's strange now that I think about it that I've never even heard of her before yesterday. How good of a friend could she be if my mother never once mentioned her to me?"

They came upon a half-elven merchant while they were still a good half a mile away from the city gates whose wagon had gotten stuck in a ditch when the horses had careened off the road. The merchant watched with his arms crossed, a look of utter disgust on his face, as his crew hustled to dig out the mud from around the tires before the drizzle became a downpour. Dee hailed him heartily. "Well met! Do you need some help?"

He gave them a once-over, and regarded them with a jaundiced look that suggested that even a casual conversation with the likes of them required more energy than he cared to expend. "Well again, on this dismal Rashemi day. No, the lads have it under control."

It occurred to Dee that this might be a good time to unload their pickings. "Are you a merchant? I have some things to sell, and I'm also lookin' to buy, if you're interested."

His pained expression suggested that she might as well have just asked him to shed his blood for her. He drawled, "Sorry." But she didn't think he sounded very sorry at all. "I sell and buy as little as possible, just as much as is required to pay for our travel expenses." Apparently he had no need of coin at the moment, though Dee suspected from the way he looked a them he was on the verge of charging for continuing the conversation.

Dee pressed on, as a merchant who wasn't interested in customers was a novelty to her. "Are you sure you don't need help with your horses then? I'm pretty good with animals."

He sighed profoundly and pointed at Kaji. "You can _help_ us by removing whatever that thing is and that bear so the lads can calm them down. It was a monstrous bear that ran them off the road in the first place, and I don't imagine they'll calm down until _your_ bear is gone."

She and Safiya looked at each other. Safiya whispered, "A monstrous bear? You don't think..." She addressed the merchant. "What was this bear like?"

The merchant looked them over with renewed interest. It usually only took him a heartbeat to size up a customer to determine whether he or she was worth an effort. This peasant woman and barefoot sell-sword weren't, in his opinion. At the most they might have some ill-gotten loot to barter. They were also obviously foreigners, as was he, and as indeed were many whom he passed on the road. But he recalled the monster bear had said he was looking for an outlander. He wouldn't be surprised if these two had looted the wrong offering hoard, and he wasn't about to provoke the bear's wrath by buying whatever they had stolen.

"Yes, it was an enormous, colorful bear leading an army of spirits. It almost hurt to look on him he was so garish. More colors on him than a Calishamshite dancer's veils. Said after he sniffed our wagon he was looking for an outlander. I wouldn't want to be him...or _her_ when that bear comes back." He turned back to watch his workers' progress, hoping they would take the hint and leave.

Dee swallowed hard and whispered to Safiya as they walked away, "Yeah, I do think it's the same bear, but I don't have a clue what I did to offend him other than defeat him, and it's so unlike a bear to carry a grudge. We better make haste into the city until we can figure somethin' out. There must be some way I can make peace with him." She looked at Cillian for confirmation, but he only chuffed and suggested fish—a whole boatload of fish.

They entered through the gate used by merchants traveling along the Golden Way, which Dee discovered to her disappointment wasn't nearly as impressive as its name had implied, being little more than a dirt road. The guards didn't bat an eye at Cillian as many berserkers had animal companions, though one guard watched Kaji closely and muttered to his cohort that Safiya had a Thayan color to her. Dee asked for directions to _The Veil Theater_ to distract them from looking too closely at Safiya and learned they had to pass through the bazaar to reach it. One of them pointed out its banners hanging from the turreted roof which could be seen from there.

Dee grinned at Safiya. "That's convenient."

Dee was used to seeing occasional merchants in exotic garb in Neverwinter and even a few pass through the Keep, but she had never seen anything like this. There were merchants wearing clothing styles she had only seen in paintings or in drawings in books. Some looked like barbarians dressed in rough hides and furs, but others wore the finest embroidered silken robes. It appeared that everything one could want could be found here. There were stalls with rugs, some with cooking pots and dishes, others with shields, bows, and swords in shapes the likes of which she had rarely seen, and others selling cloth ranging in quality from coarse hemp to fine Shou silks in every color imaginable. She noticed one booth, the wares of which consisted of bolts of cotton in a variety of colors, and as she looked at the price she realized she could buy an entire bolt of cotton for what two shirts cost back in Neverwinter.

She grumbled to Cillian about leaving her Bag of Holding locked in her desk back at the Keep.

The heady scent of exotic spices and food cooking down one row made their mouths water and stomachs rumble since they had eaten nothing but pears all day, but they had to sell a few things first. Safiya asked a carpet merchant who might be in the market for weapons and Imaskari artifacts and was directed two doors down to the stall of Azim Qo'toth.

He was a tall, dark, slender man with a thick black beard wearing a heavily embroidered coat over a red knee-length loose-fitting tunic and voluminous pants that were gathered close at his ankles. He answered their inquiry with a gap-toothed, welcoming smile as he bowed low and gestured them inside his tent. "Of course! Come in, _effendis_. Let me see what you have to sell, and then perhaps we will see if I have something you would like to purchase, yes? Or let us barter, better yet! Come, Come! Mavish, we have customers!" Dee made a few well-known Harper hand signs while they talked, but Azim only gave her a puzzled look when she casually asked if he knew anything about the Wendersnaven.

He directed them to take a seat on a cushion-strewn bench with a low table in front of it. His wife Mavish, a tall, plump woman wearing a long loose black robe and an embroidered purple scarf, appeared from behind a curtain with a tray of inky coffee served in tiny cups. She was followed by a curly-haired girl carrying another tray filled with tarts. Mavish explained these were popular dishes in their homeland and invited them to break their fast with them. The tarts, which smelled as delicious as they tasted, were filled with chopped lamb and goat seasoned with garlic and mint or spinach and nuts. Azim looked over everything they had to sell while they ate, while Mavish hovered to make sure they did eat as she brought them water, admonishing them that they were too skinny. Cillian made himself comfortable on a rug behind their bench, and the little girl was sent off to buy him a few fish; she bravely brought them to him and watched at a safe distance in fascination as he devoured them.

Mavish gasped in alarm when Dee told them she had lost her rucksack and almost all of her equipment, so she needed to replace it all. Mavish then had her stand, took her firmly by the shoulders then the hips to estimate her measurements then did the same with Safiya and went off to her friend Mother Feodorra's stall, promising to return with a few changes of clothes for them both.

Safiya protested that she didn't need anything except a cloak and a few changes of small clothes but couldn't help adding before Mavish was out of the stall, "Dee's rather fond of ruffles and lace."

Dee chuckled and nudged her gently then snatched a spinach tart that Safiya was about to pick up and whispered, "I've rarely encountered such hospitality back home except in the shops catering to the wealthy of Blacklake, and I know _we_ don't look wealthy."

Azim's eldest son was sent off to purchase a pair of boots for Dee from another nearby merchant, taking her remaining boot to size them. She was aware that there would be a mark-up on everything that was bought for them, but it would save them time. She still wished she had Neeshka with her to bargain with him, but Azim seemed honest enough, so she trusted her instincts.

He sealed the deal after studying Safiya for a moment while he stroked his beard then asking, "I do not mean to be presumptuous, but you have the look of a magi. I am correct, yes? I only ask because we have a modest collection of scrolls and potions, as well as supplies for creating your own scrolls, if you are interested." As Safiya perked up immediately, he grinned toothily and stuck his head behind a curtain and shouted, "Ziba, you have a customer!" A young woman with brilliant black eyes dressed like her mother immediately stepped out and led Safiya by the hand to another curtained alcove.

Safiya squealed loudly once she stepped inside which put Dee on alert, but immediately exclaimed, "Oh my! What fine parchment! And you have red dragon's blood ink!"

Dee chuckled lightly and whispered to Cillian, "Sounds like she'll be busy for a while."

In the end Dee had new boots, and Mavish reappeared with Mother Feodorra who presented Dee with a cloak for Safiya, a pair of soft leather breeches, three cotton shirts with blackwork embroidery down the sleeves and on the neck, several pairs of warm wool socks, and some small clothes that Dee told them she knew Cas would love. But that made her think of her husband, and it was all she could do to stop herself from bursting into tears to the dismay of Mavish, who thought she had offended her. Dee felt she had to explain, but she didn't know _what_ to explain that wouldn't make her sound like a madwoman other than that somehow she woke up on the other side of the world with no memory of why or how or where her husband was, ending by apologizing for sounding like a raving lunatic.

Four young faces peered out from behind curtains to see what was the matter as their parents sat on either side of Dee and Mother Feodorra stood behind her trying to comfort her and listened to her story. Mavish took her hand as an idea occurred to her. "I know it is a long journey to your home, lady, but can you write? Perhaps you could send a letter to your husband. Korbuin the carpet monger is leaving the day after tomorrow in a caravan heading towards Baldur's Gate and from there north. For a fee I am sure he would carry your letter with him. But I suppose there's no guarantee he could get it to your homeland before you arrive there yourself."

Dee dabbed at her eyes. "That's a really good idea. Thank you, I'll write something tonight. But mayhap I could send it faster through one of the temples. Do you know if there is a temple of Tyr here?"

Mother Feodorra replied, "No, the only temples in Mulsantir are the shrine of the three goddesses, Meilikki, Mystra, and Chauntea, and the temple of the god of the dead, Kelemvor. There are whispers that there's a shrine of Malar somewhere, but if there is, it's well hidden. And those witches at the triple goddesses' shrine are not very friendly to outsiders unless they worship one of the three."

Azim and his wife nodded in agreement, and she added, "But I see you wear the symbol of the unicorn goddess, so you will be welcome at her shrine."

Azim suggested a list of equipment they should pick up later for their journeys back home, which he promised to have ready within a day or two. Mavish presented Dee with a leather-bound journal, telling her it might help if she recorded her travel and anything she remembered of how she came to be here. She also got her some hemp paper and sealing wax for writing letters. Dee asked if Safiya could travel with them if they were heading south, but they told her they had only arrived in Mulsantir a tenday ago and planned to stay through the winter until the roads dried out before heading back towards Calimshan.

Mavish smiled and put her hand on her rounded belly by way of explanation, which had been disguised by her loose garb and plump figure. "This is not a good time for me to be jostled about in a wagon all day, so we remain here. But I will find your friend safe traveling companions, don't you worry."

Safiya stepped back from behind the curtain after she finished perusing the magical supplies. She sat back down beside Dee and said excitedly, "Look at these! 'Modest selection' my eye! And I can take these scrolls and copy them into this blank spell book so I'll have them available until I get home! Do we have enough to pay for all of it?" She blushed as it occurred to her how much she had selected to purchase.

Dee turned to Azim, who nodded and looked pleased that he wasn't having to part with much in the way of gold pieces or gems. "We barter for this, and I will give you the rest when you return tomorrow after I have made a few sales, yes?"

No one responded to Dee's less than subtle hints about finding 'those who harp,' and none of them could tell them much about Lienna other than she was known as 'the lady in white,' and it was said she rarely left her theater. But Mother Feodorra added she was a renowned mask maker, and the whisperers in the market said that her masks were enchanted and could come to life. Dee thanked her as she collected her payment and left to return to her own stall, and she and Safiya accepted warm hugs from Azim and Mavish and from each of their six children before they left for the theater.

But once they had left the warm atmosphere of Azim's stall, Dee felt jittery and blamed it on drinking the thick, sugary coffee. Yet she knew she had reasons to dread this meeting. On the way to Mulsantir she had to force herself not to dwell on it; now that it was here, Dee was feeling sick again at the thought of confronting this woman, for she knew there couldn't be a good reason she had been brought to this land. It wasn't as if they thought she deserved a Rashemi holiday. No, she had been brought here because someone wanted something of her, or wanted her to do something no one who wasn't desperate wouldn't do.

If they had simply wanted the Sword of Gith, there would have been no reason to leave her in that barrow, unless...One possibility that presented itself was that the barrow was a convenient place to dump her body after they cut out the shard, with no one being the wiser. There was no evidence that the surgery had been performed there, so that meant she was taken there afterwards. But then why take her so far away, and why send Safiya to help her? And more disturbing, what had been bound in that circle of rune stones? "Why" was the question that demanded an answer, though "Who the fuck do you think you are to steal me away without a by-your-leave," was the more pressing question. She steeled herself and reminded herself she had no proof yet that Lienna was any more guilty than Safiya was. Cillian, sensing her agitation, nuzzled her as they walked to the theater, and she bent down and ruffled his fur.

She wondered as they approached the entrance what kind of play was to be performed this evening and had to stop herself from thinking of the plays she had attended with her companions in Neverwinter. The doors were closed when they approached. She turned to Safiya. "Oh no, I think we must be too late and they've started."

Safiya frowned. "That's strange. The guard said the performance wouldn't start until after sundown." Safiya was beginning to have an uneasy feeling after she observed a line of patrons waiting outside for the doors to open, some grumbling about going to _The Sloop _instead. "There must be some problem that has delayed the performance. Let's see if we can persuade the doorkeeper to let us come in and talk to Lienna before they begin."

Suddenly the evening quiet was broken by a woman's blood-curdling scream. They ran up the steps but found the door locked, and out of habit Dee reached for her lock picks since Neeshka wasn't with her. But Kaji swooped in front of her and had it open in the time it took for Dee to draw her swords. Safiya cast a few protective spells on both of them before Dee threw the door open.

The house lights had been lit in anticipation of the performance. The screaming woman turned out to be a man with long golden wavy hair wearing heavy face paint who shrieked again as he ran past them. He was followed by three other actors and then a stout female dwarf in an elegant gown which she had hitched up to her hips so she didn't trip over her skirts, all running away from a pack of gnolls and a Red Wizard.

The Red Wizard gaped at Safiya in disbelief. "Nefris's daughter, here? How is it possible?" Then he shouted at the gnolls, "Destroy her! Araman will have us strangled with our own intestines if we allow her to escape!"

Safiya immediately began casting a spell, as did the Red Wizard. But hers was faster and deadlier. She hissed, "Consider yourself expelled!" Dee and Cillian attacked the nearest gnolls to give Safiya cover. Dee thought as she landed a blow on a gnoll's thigh that severed the artery that it was too bad Safiya hadn't trained Kaji to use a bow to give her cover.

Dee killed the last gnoll and looked around for more. The dwarven woman came out of her hiding place in the box office and approached Dee and Safiya once she realized the fighting was over. "I'm Magda, the manager of the theater. Lienna said you would be coming. Quickly, take this!" She handed Dee a black stone that seemed to absorb all light around it. "Red Wizards—four or five of them—appeared out of nowhere with a pack of gnolls, and Lienna passed me her shadow stone and ran backstage. There is a portal to the shadow plane in her room, and that's where she would have gone to escape them. This stone will allow you to see the portal! Hurry!" She followed the other actors and sprinted to the door faster than Dee had seen any dwarf but Khelgar move.

Dee shoved the stone inside her brigandine since both she and Safiya needed their hands free and it was that or put it in her mouth. Safiya cast Mordenkainen's Sword while Dee summoned a dire badger. When they had finished they ran across the theater and behind the scenery and into a storeroom, where four more gnolls bigger and deadlier than any Dee had ever encountered on the Sword Coast were rooting through boxes and closets. "At least it's not gods-cursed undead," Dee muttered as she, the summoned badger, and Cillian attacked the gnolls while Safiya took care of the young Red Wizard directing them.

The gnolls were a harder fight than Dee would have believed possible. She made a mental note to ask Safiya later what the hells Thayans did to beef them up as they walked through the storerooms looking for Lienna's private chamber. They were definitely stronger and possessed more than an animal intelligence.

Safiya had lit the room with the deadly energies of her spells during the battle, so Dee whispered, "How are you on spells? That's two Red Wizards, but the dwarven woman said there was at least four."

Safiya answered confidently, "Don't worry, I'm saving my best for the last, and I still have my staff and a few other tricks up my sleeve. I know those two; they're graduate students from my academy, or they _were_. One of the reasons my mother sent me to you was because she was dealing with a minor insurrection at the academy. It's common enough in Thay, though I'm happy to say it doesn't happen as often at our school as at the others. Look there, that must be the place." A door at the end of the hallway had been split down the middle. Safiya stood back as Dee cautiously peered inside then nodded to let her know it was safe, and Safiya and Kaji followed her into a bedroom, a woman's bedroom judging from the flowery white curtains and bedding.

Dee glanced around. A pile of white clothes lay on the carpet, which might be evidence they had come this way or simply indicate that Lienna was sloppy, but the condition of the rest of the room belied that. Against the far wall was a workbench where she created her famous masks. Several finished masks hung on a rack over it, and two partially finished masks lay on top of it along with containers and baskets of feathers, paste gem stones, and paints. There was also a crafting table similar to Sand's on the opposite wall. She reached into her brigandine and withdrew the shadow stone and held it out before her as Safiya examined one of the masks that radiated an enchantment. A glistening black oval about the size of a full-length mirror materialized in the corner. "Come and look at this!" Safiya gave her a puzzled look then gasped as she saw it too.

Dee guided Cillian through with her, and Safiya took Kaji by the hand and followed Dee through. Either Dee was becoming accustomed to using portals, or it was easier to pass through to the shadow plane, because she didn't feel sick to her stomach and disoriented this time. The room they entered was a mirror image of the dimensions of the one they just left except it was almost completely drained of color. The only color that broke up the gray monotony came from the portal they had just used and a brazier simmering with magical fire.

What had been a bedroom in Mulsantir on this side of the portal was evidently Lienna's secret library and magical workshop. Safiya grabbed a few scrolls that she spotted tucked away on shelves between books as they passed through. Safiya froze in place suddenly as she reached for another scroll and put her hands over her ears. She gasped, "No!"

Dee rushed to her side. "What is it? Was it those voices again?"

Safiya shook her head. "Yes! No! It's nothing. It's over now. I thought...I heard a scream and felt like I was on fire for a minute. I _swear_ I'm not going mad."

Dee put her hand on her shoulder. " It must mean something. If you want to talk later..."

"I don't, but thanks. Let's go on." Safiya waited for Dee to take the lead again then followed.

There were two doors leading from the storeroom, but only one was open. Dee whispered, "That's the one. I don't see them taking the time to shut the door behind themselves." Dee peered through the doorway at the shadow opposite of the storerooms behind the stage, but there were no gnolls or Red Wizards she could see. She indicated a door across the room. "Over there should be where the stage is." She noticed that sound also seemed eerily muffled on this plane as she took the lead and quickly crossed. They passed a rough work table splattered darkly. Something about the splatters caught Dee's attention and compelled her to give it a second look, but she didn't have time to examine it now. They stopped on either side of the door to the stage to prepare themselves and catch their breaths and summon some more help before Dee and Cillian counted to three then rushed the shadow theater.

But it was too late to save Lienna. A male Red Wizard stood over smoking remains stirring them with his boot. A gnoll growled to get his attention, and a younger Red Wizard shouted in alarm, "Khai, it's Safiya, here!"

Safiya gasped as he looked at her, "Khai Khmun! You?...I...I_thought_ I smelled incompetence. So you have joined this rebellion! Who is holding your leash, you mongrel!"

Khai Khmun smiled smugly at Safiya. "Araman—he rewards loyalty. That's something you and your mother should have learned. But I didn't kill this woman; she immolated herself to evade capture."

Dee uttered a vile curse at him. "Killing Lienna was a big mistake. I needed to talk to her."

Dee was obviously not a mage, so he hadn't considered her worthy of his attention until now. He startled as he took note of her and said, "Safiya, what are you doing here with this _thing_. Araman warned us about her." He gestured at Dee and his face revealed a mixture of fear and disgust.

Dee recognized the look he exchanged with Safiya; it was that of former lovers, but she could tell also that he and Safiya hadn't parted well. And she didn't take kindly the way he addressed her. "Is this a rival of yours, Safiya? I'm Dierdre Farlong and not a _thing_."

Safiya sneered and spat venomously, "He's not skilled enough to be any kind of rival to me. Khai's merely a _junior _instructor without the talent to recommend himself, so this worthless pile of sputum has taken the easy way to advancement, and when he couldn't suck up to my mother through me, found another way."

He flushed angrily and slipped a hand into his belt pouch as he replied calmly to buy himself time, though not disguising the fear and disgust he felt when he looked at Dee. "My quarrel is with Safiya, not you. You can go. But I don't think Safiya will put up as much fight as her mother did."

Safiya shrieked, "My mother!" His movement toward his component pouch hadn't gone unnoticed, but she was ready too. "You best be joking about my mother, Khai, or I promise you'll beg for death after I finish with you!"

He snorted. "Yes, Nefris used every spell available to her right down to her cantrips, but in the end no one from her precious academy came to her aid."

Dee had been keeping an eye on the other Red Wizard and caught him beginning a silent spell. She drew a dagger she had found in the barrow from her belt and threw it at him, catching him full in the throat, and Cillian charged him to finish him off. Safiya had been saving a Mordenkainen's Disjunction spell and cast it at the Red Wizards. Dee took care of the Erinyes that had been summoned, keeping them away from Safiya. But Safiya didn't need a meat shield now. Khai Khumn's taunt about her mother removed any hesitancy she might have felt. She hit him with everything she had, not really caring if she brought this shadow theater down on their heads.

When it was over Safiya knelt beside Khai Khmun's corpse as Dee looted the other Red Wizard's. She said angrily as she closed his eyes, "And to think you once claimed to care for me. But you were only interested in finding favor through the headmistress's daughter." She looked at him for a heartbeat longer then copied Dee and looted his corpse.

Dee walked over and put her arm around her shoulder and pulled her close. " I'm sorry about your mother. My former lover betrayed us to our enemies too, so I know what you're feeling. I'm still here to talk later. I understand if you want to return home now too."

Safiya smiled sadly as she accepted Dee's embrace. "Thanks. I'm not even sure what I'd be returning home to now though. My mother's last request was for me to help you, so if you don't mind, I'll stay with you, though I don't know what we'll do now that Lienna's dead. Perhaps we could start by searching her rooms to see if we can learn what she was supposed to tell you."

"That's a good idea. We should talk to Magda too and see if Lienna told her anything else. Then mayhap when this is over I can go back to Thay with you." Dee glanced at the corpse at her feet. "If you're ready, I need to take a look at that table in the storeroom we passed first."

Dee circled the table for a few minutes trying to work up the nerve before she gingerly reached out and touched it. She moaned then screamed and stared wide-eyed, rooted to the floor. Cillian growled and looked around for an attacker while Safiya called to her in alarm, wanting to pull her away but afraid that whatever on the table was affecting Dee would affect her as well if she touched her. She was about to dispel any enchantments on the table when Dee finally broke free and dropped to her knees, gasping for breath, her forehead beaded with sweat.

Safiya knelt beside her. "What happened? Did you have another vision?"

Dee stood shakily. "This was the place where...some shadowy things brought me here, stripped off my armor, and bound me to this table." She shuddered and told Safiya about the memory of how they bound her hands and feet so tightly to the table the restraints drew blood. The pain was fresh as if it had just happened. "Then I saw two women who might have been twins they looked so much alike. One was dressed in white. She must have been Lienna. The other was wearing red robes like yours...she had a surgeon's blade in her hand, and she ripped my shirt opened and sliced into my chest." She forcefully broke away from Safiya and leaned over beside the table and vomited until she thought she would vomit up her stomach as well. When it was over she sat on the floor against the wall rocking with her face in her hands. Cillian sat beside her and nuzzled her as she let the tears out.

Safiya sat on the other side of her and took her hand, overcome with a feeling of horror at what had happened to Dee, and a worse feeling of dread at what the vision told her. "A woman with red robes?" Now she knew why her mother had sent her here, but she still didn't want to believe her capable of something like this. But it was the only explanation.

Dee nodded. "I felt every bit of it. I could feel their hands in my chest. Their arms were bloody up to their elbows. Finally the woman in red held up the shard that had been in my chest. She had a look of triumph on her face, and she turned to me and whispered something. Then the shadowy creatures picked me up and carried me off. That's all I remember."

Safiya looked sick. "Do you remember what she said?"

Dee whispered, "She smiled at me and said, 'For love.'"

Safiya looked confused. "For love? That's it? What does that mean?"

Dee shrugged as she got to her feet again. "Damned if I know. Come on, let's go find that dwarven woman then find somewhere to stay. I don't feel well."

They reentered Lienna's bedroom and went to the theater, but no one answered their call, though Dee pointed out that the bodies had been carried out. She said, "I bet they're waiting outside for the local watch until they see it's safe."

Safiya nodded in agreement. "We can only hope they didn't keep running. If they're not outside, I suggest we take Lienna's room and wait for them to return."

Safiya opened the door, but the actors weren't waiting for them. Instead, three women wearing masks appeared in a blinding flash of light. "Witches!" she hissed. "Stay close to me and let me do the talking."


	44. A Good Woman is Hard to Find

Chapter 44 A Good Woman is Hard to Find

Usual disclaimers: The characters are owned by Bioware, Obsidian, and a whole boatload of others and not me, with the exception of a bear and paladin-lovin' ranger and an occasional NPC. Again, a few liberties were taken with spells. Then again, we still don't know what new spells were in the Tome of Iltkazar, so there. As always, reviews or comments appreciated, as well as pm discussions.

**On the Sword Coast:**

Aldanon turned over on his side and curled up, his thumb stuck firmly in his mouth. Nethen and Troki, two of his research assistants, had gently carried him from the chair in the audience chamber, where he had been sleeping soundly. Troki looked down at him and smiled as Nethen unfastened his belt and loosened his robe. She whispered, "He looks like a little boy. So peaceful." She tucked the covers around him, and they tiptoed out of his bed chamber and sought the warmth of their own beds.

The ancient sage mumbled something in his sleep and tossed fitfully, eventually working off the covers. But that left him vulnerable to the chill night air, and he thrashed a while longer until the chill overcame sleep. He sat on the edge of the bed rubbing his eyes and tried to remember going to bed in the first place. He thought it ironic that at his age he slept perfectly well with his head cradled by a book on a hard table in the library or sitting in one of the stiff chairs. But when he was in a soft, warm bed, sleep often eluded him. He dangled his legs for a few minutes before he braved the icy floor, grumbling about where his slippers had run off to, then toddled over to the chamberpot resting on a low table (set at just the right height to avoid accidents) and stood there for some time waiting for nature to take its course, which was happening with alarming frequency. A few dribbles led to a small stream, then after a few more spurts and with a final shake he closed his robe with a contented sigh.

"What was I doing," he muttered, scratching his head. "Oh! I remember now! We were waiting in the audience chamber for the Captain and her companions to return from the Mere. But why do I get the feeling I've forgotten something?" He wandered over to the window and peered out at the darkness as he scratched his head again trying to remember if they _had _returned but he had forgotten about it. He decided he was sure he would have remembered something like that, but that led to another train of thought. "My Contingency spell hasn't triggered yet either. Or has it?" He scratched his head while he tried to remember exactly how he worded the spell before he gave up. "No matter. It will all work out, I suppose." He rubbed his belly, suddenly conscious of being hungry, and left in search of cinnamon rolls, which he hoped would be available down in the kitchen, if that cook had gotten back from where ever he ran off to with those children.

Khelgar examined the debris in the doorway he and Neeshka had exited hours before, one of several examinations he had made of the stone since then. He leaned against a pillar and thought aloud, "Nothin' more's come sliding down in a while. Stone looks stable now. I think 'tis finally over and 'tis safe to go back in." He had tried breaking another rock, but the continued assault proved to be more than his foot could take. He grumbled, "If I had the power of all the Ironfists behind me, we could dig 'em out in no time."

He looked over his shoulder blushing profusely, conscious of someone coming up on him talking to himself, but the tiefling was still gone, exploring the exterior of the structure for another door. Khelgar looked up and stroked his beard in thought. "Now there's another possibility. We could dig our way down or find a way inside that's not blocked off." He strode up a smooth marble column that was leaning against the roof at an angle as if walking on flat ground and whistled as he surveyed the damage once he reached the top. There was nothing he could do for now, so he sat cross-legged on a portion of the roof that hadn't collapsed and began chanting, though to a casual observer it might have sounded more like snoring.

Neeshka returned from her exploration and looked around for him, calling to him nervously. "Hey! Stumpy! Where are you?" She heard Khelgar's rumbling chant above her so she stepped back until she could see the roof and spotted him sitting above her with his eyes closed. She called up, "Hey stumpy, do you see anything, or are you asleep?"

He opened his eyes and scowled then gestured at her to join him. Neeshka gracefully walked up the column, her tail extended aiding her balance and reminding him of a cat. She sat down beside him. "I didn't find anyone. I reached an a dead end where the swamp has completely taken the building. El could probably find her way through the vines, but I sure couldn't. I could try the other direction later, but I wanted to get back to you." She wrapped her arms around herself to ward off the chill that wasn't entirely due to the cool autumn air. It was true, but she also couldn't stand to be alone any longer either. It was bad enough that it appeared they were the only ones who made it out. She still wouldn't accept it until...she shook her head sadly.

Khelgar turned back to look over the ruin, nudged her and pointed. "Look there, can you see that? I think that's where the Inner Sanctum was. You see the way the damage spirals out from there?" She peered in that direction then nodded, seeing it once he pointed it out to her. He sprang to his feet and carefully stepped on the roof and held his breath to see if it would support his weight. It held, and he exhaled loudly in relief. "I was thinking that if we climbed down over there, we might be able to find a way in. I think that portal that brought us here was somewhere around there too."

"You mean...we use the portal without the others? Could we even do it without Sand? But that's assuming it still exists." She gaped at him in astonishment and couldn't believe Khelgar was the one making the suggestion.

Khelgar didn't look very happy about his suggestion either and bellowed defensively, "I'm not sayin' we abandon the others, fiendling! Here me out!" He flushed and added, "Mayhap we should use it tho', if it wasn't destroyed. We have to get help fast so we can find the others in that rubble and then find out who took the Captain."

Neeshka's tail lashed anxiously. "You're positive you saw her carried off, Khel? Umm, you sure you didn't take a rock to the head? I'm just askin.'"

He snorted loudly, and Neeshka sidestepped to avoid the contents of a nostril. "It would take more than a rock to crack an Ironfist skull!," he bellowed, knocking on his skull to emphasize his point.

Neeshka thought the whole story of monsters stepping out of a portal and spiriting Dee away seemed like something out of a bad play, but she had to admit Dee did seem to attract trouble like fruit attracted gnats, and she reminded him of that. "It's probably because of that cursed planet in her birth chart."

He grunted, not putting any stock in such foolishness, then continued more quietly, "I don't know if I believe that, but I know what I saw, lass, crazy as it sounds. And I'll admit right now it does sound crazy. I wouldn't believe it either if _you_ had been the one who saw it. But it's true! Some kind o' fiends snatched her up from under the rocks and jumped through a portal with her. I heard a crack. They must've broken a bone yankin' her out. I was fightin' one of 'em, and Jerro jumped in after them. Then the one I was fightin' breathed a cloud of somethin' foul in my face that made me fall back so it could join the others. By the time I recovered the portal had closed. Then the building started shakin' again, and I got the hells out of there."

Neeshka could see that he was ashamed that he hadn't been fast enough to stop them and she took his hand. "It's okay, Khel. You did what you could. You don't think...Jerro would have...?" She had come to forgive him as Dee had for what he did to Shandra, and over the past few months had even sought him out in his lair in the cellar to learn what she could coax out of him about the lower planes and about Mephasm, whom she was convinced was her grandfather. She didn't want to believe that Jerro could have betrayed them too, but it occurred to her that he might have needed Dee's sword again once the King of Shadows was destroyed, or that he was using her to fulfill one of his infernal bargains.

Khelgar replied emphatically, "Nay, I tell you I saw Jerro's face clearly! He was trying to stop 'em too, not goin' with 'em. I never liked the man and thought the Captain was bein' too soft on 'im, but he has pulled his weight, I'll give him that. I don't envy him facin' whoever sent those things alone either. Come on, fiendling. It'll be dawn soon. Let's see what we can find up here."

Neeshka took the lead in climbing over the rubble, deftly testing the footing before she motioned him on. "Solid enough, Stumpy. I can't promise it'll hold _your_ weight though." And indeed from time to time they had to pause as the stone under their feet swayed alarmingly or loose rocks slid and threatened to take them down.

Far below in the rubble Sand stretched out the stiffness as much as he could. It was dark and quiet as the grave here now, though they still jumped at the sound of rock falling on rock from time to time. He tried not to dwell on the fact that this ruin might indeed become his grave. His spell had expired long ago, so he didn't dare leave their shelter until he had time to study his spells and renew them. There had been something fetid and unwholesome in the air after the structure first collapsed, and he had been overcome by the fumes and lost consciousness, as had Elanee, but he could smell fresher, slightly less fetid swamp air now.

The space they were in was too tight for Elanee to shapeshift back to her Elven form, so she remained by his side in the form of a vole with Naloth, though the badger, being restless by nature and less cautious than they, had gone exploring. Elanee had curled up in a ball once they awakened. Sand suspected she was panicking being trapped and cut off from nature. He opened his magic bag and withdrew a spellbook and his scroll case and uncovered the light coin in his headband. He withdrew the tome too, but being a transmuter he couldn't cast the spell that opened the portal anyway even if he knew the spell, so he set it aside, though he caressed the cover softly. They had yet to fully explore all the spells within it. But he decided it was safer to stick with the spells familiar to him rather than to experiment with Illefarn magic.

He skimmed over his spells and paused deep in thought then adjusted the light from his coin and glanced around them. "Elanee, dear girl, do you have any idea how close that door was? Or what direction it was from here for that matter?" Elanee sat up and squeaked at him then inclined her head to the left, but then she shook her head, not being sure.

He frowned and steepled his slender fingers under his chin. "I'm not sure either. We could sit here and await rescue, but frankly, I'm not sure there is anyone left to rescue us. I'm afraid that if we try to conjure an earth elemental again it might cause the structure to collapse further. Perhaps if you could shapeshift into the form of an air or water elemental you could find a way out for yourself. Another option is that we could become ethereal and travel through the stone, though if we haven't found a way out by the time the spell expires, we will be ejected into the closest available empty space. Quite forcefully and no doubt painfully, I might add." He sighed and resumed perusing his spellbook.

Naloth squeezed back under the slab and sat down before Elanee, looking intently into her eyes. Elanee stared back and listened as he spoke to her through their bond then needed communicate what he had found to Sand, for there was much to tell. She moved as far away from Sand as she could and resumed her Elven form. They were forced to press against one another because of the tightness of the space. "Naloth says the hallway that led to the door has collapsed and he couldn't find any way through. He found the Construct close to us, but it is stuck under a slab of rock. He didn't see Grobnar though he caught his scent faintly nearby, and he says he heard a sound coming from the Construct while he sniffed it, so he scratched on it."

She paused to stare into Naloth's eyes again as he settled onto her lap, and after a moment she gasped in alarm. "Oh, Sand! He says the only one he found besides us was the bear-walker's mate—Casavir, trapped under rocks. He said he wasn't moving, though he nuzzled him." Elanee sobbed, and she put her face in her hands as her voice failed her.

Sand's voice cracked as he asked, "He...found no sign of the dear girl? She was right beside him."

"None." Elanee shook her head and he pulled her close. She said softly as she buried her head on his chest, "He found no trace of Zhjaeve at all either, nor of Dee other than a faint scent. It's odd though, he says he found her paw cover—that's her boot—and her blood, but she's not in it, and her paw wasn't either. He says it's stuck between rocks."

"That _is_ indeed odd." Sand raised a delicate eyebrow and tried to fathom what that meant. "Perhaps she had to leave it behind so she could free herself and get out."

Elanee smiled hopefully. "That's possible. Perhaps she's outside waiting for us with Neeshka. She had a big enough lead that I'm certain _she_ made it out, and Khelgar was right behind her. And Zhjaeve could be with them too."

He said with more sarcasm than he intended, "Perhaps they are all sitting there having tea and waiting for us. I don't wish to sit here awaiting rescue any longer. Ethereal it is then." Sand leaned back against the stone wall trying to decide which way was least likely to cause them serious pain and injury if the spell expired. He looked around then murmured, "Up, perhaps..." He opened his spell book across Elanee's lap as Naloth growled a complaint and thumbed through the spellbook until he found the right spell.

But before he could cast it a familiar voice called out, "Oh my! I was beginning to think I was all alone down here! I've managed to write with a new ballad about the battle, but I feared no one was ever going to hear it."

"Grobnar!" Elanee shouted happily, and Sand was surprised how happy he was to hear the gnome's voice as well.

Grobnar stuck his head into the opening Naloth had used and beamed at them. He explained how he had taken cover in a compartment in the Construct's back when he realized his way out was blocked. He was taking a nap after he discovered he was trapped inside, seeming to be the only logical thing to do, when he was awakened by scratching coming from outside the construct. "So I became ethereal and followed the sound of his claws clacking on the stone until I found you." He peered into the tiny compartment. "That's certainly a snug space. I don't think I'll fit." He drifted up the rock and looked as if he was about to try to join them anyway.

Sand rolled his eyes to the heavens and muttered, "Oh yes, by all means please do join us then. I'm sure my lap can hold half of Elanee, the badger, my books, and you. I believe this is as good a time as any to find our way out of here. Follow us." He hastily put his books and scroll case away. "I only hope I can perform the gestures correctly so the spell doesn't go horribly wrong." He cast the spell and touched Elanee, who put her arm around Naloth, who in turn let Grobnar lay a hand on his tail. In a heartbeat they felt light as air, and they followed Sand as he moved up, swimming through the solid stone as if through water.

Casavir awoke with a start, and he cried out as the pain crashed over him again. He was wracked by a deep cough. "Tyr help me endure this," he earnestly prayed when the spasm was finished. The metallic taste of blood filled his mouth. He knew that meant he didn't have long. He listened but heard nothing. He could have sworn he was awakened by something clawing at him, but he was truly alone unless it had been an animal in search of a meal. Alone without her, without anyone. Where could she be? He thought he remembered dark things that picked her up, though he was no longer sure now if it had really happened. He whispered sadly, "Please, Tyr, help my love." He tried to move and made a bit of progress, but the effort to extricate himself a few more inches was exhausting, though he was able to put his hand on her boot. After a final whisper of "Tyr," he surrendered to oblivion.

Some miles away, Wolf watched the Luskans below his perch peering through a spyglass the Captain had given him for an early birthday present. Their camp was to the north of his and Zeta's position. He worried that she had gotten too close to their camp, but even out here in the woods she had an uncanny ability move soundlessly and to become one with the shadows, better than anyone in his crew, and almost as good as Miss Neeshka. Even Zeta's greasy dishwater blond hair seemed to turn gray and blend with shadow. He chalked it up to some enchantment on the leathers that Miss Neshka had given her once she had the tail hole patched. He had climbed a tree to spy what he could in the dark, though he couldn't hear much of what was going on below. That's why Zeta took the chance to get closer when they saw the Luskans were fighting about something.

The Luskans had built a fire and set up their camp for the night, and Wolf had dozed off leaning against the trunk of the tree waiting for Zeta to relieve him. Then the argument broke out and woke him up, and he spotted Zeta watching below. Wolf pressed against the trunk of the tree and wondered if they were going to come to blows. The half-naked one that they thought was a mage was staring at something she held closely in her hand and said something excitedly to the others. She took out a scroll and held it out before her. Wolf figured she must be casting a spell, and a few heartbeats later what looked like a glowing circle appeared in front of her. The big one with the tattoo on his hand continued to argue with one of the other men as the mage shouted loudly enough that Wolf could hear her clearly, "We're within range! We have to go, you fools. Now! You know what the consequences will be if we squander this opportunity to seize the tome!" The big man cast a last glare at the others as he put his hand on her shoulder, joined by a man wearing a plain gray robe and a woman in leathers. The circle vanished as soon as the four of them stepped through.

The other two who remained behind renewed their argument as one of them dug something that looked like shackles from his belt pouch. Wolf figured they were probably not happy about being left out of whatever the others were planning. He knew the feeling; he got that from Leather every time he and Zeta went scouting alone, though he only had to put up with Leather's sulky looks. He noticed that Zeta took advantage of the Luskan's continued distraction to move to safety, moving silently and staying to the shadows. He climbed down nimbly as a squirrel and followed her back to their own camp. They slipped up behind and startled Hiram on last watch, who raised his huge cudgel defensively but relaxed when he saw who it was. "You getting some sleep before we move on, lad?"

"No, the Luskans are up to something. Let's tell the others."

They awakened Mignon and Leather, and all gathered around Zeta and Wolf to hear what they discovered. Zeta related to her companions what she had heard as she sat on a fallen tree and pushed her hair out of her eyes, which she kept fixed on the ground. "I moved closer when I heard them fighting so I could find out what they're up to. The woman wearing those two red scarves that she thinks is a gown said their lives would be forfeit if they returned without the _Tome of Ilkazar_. She reminded them that was their mission here."

Hiram handed the two of them a cup of coffee. "So that's what they're after. Makes sense that they would want that back since Luskan is fighting a war over it."

Zeta shrugged and looked back at the ground. "Yeah but there's more. She had something that let them trace it when they got close enough to it, and she told them a couple of times to shut up so she could concentrate. She was arguing that they detected it at the Keep and they knew it was no longer there, so the Neverwintans must have used it to find Black Garius, but it was hidden somehow. The big one with the tattoo on his hand said they should just get the tome as fast as they could and kill anyone who got in their way, but the man in the gray robe called him an ass and said that they had to bring back the Farlong woman, the sorceress, and the Githzerai dead or alive for the bounty so they could be put on trial for killing Sydney someone."

Wolf leaned forward and interrupted her. "Sydney Natale! She was the Luskan ambassador who tried to murder the Captain and Qara! I heard Mr. Jalboun talkin' about it to Mistress Maisie one night when he had too much to drink."

Zeta scowled at the interruption and continued. "That's mainly what they were arguing about though it's hard to tell there was so much hate bein' throwed about. How could they even work together hating one another so bad? Anyway, the woman in the leather said the bounty covers all of the Captain's companions too, and that some in the Hosttower would pay handsomely for Black Garius's corpse too if they could find it. She said they couldn't leave such a fortune behind. I could see the greed in her eyes—she would kill anyone who got in her way. The other man in the chain shirt thought it was too dangerous. They would have to travel with them all the way to the ship at Highcliff whether alive as prisoners or even dead as animated corpses, and he said he didn't see why the Hosttower couldn't just teleport them back.

Mignon interrupted her this time. "Because there are ways of tracing the spell, no? That was in one of the books Master Sand let me borrow."

Zeta nodded. "Yeah, the man in gray stuck his finger in the big man's chest, called him stupid, and told him that the Captain's disappearance must not be traced to the Hosttower under any circumstances. The big man swore and said that he'd tear his arm off if he ever did that again." She paused for a swallow of coffee. "But there's more. The man in chainmail said that they could have the others as long as he got Bishop all to himself. Something about making him pay for Red Fellow Witch, whoever that is. I heard him say 'Bishop thought he killed everyone but he was wrong,' and he told them he planned to skin him alive. Slowly." She shuddered and looked like she was going to be sick. "I know he meant it. And then the woman in red yelled that she had detected it and she read a scroll and they disappeared." Zeta took a deep breath and pushed her hair out of her face again. "And that's it."

Leather said softly, "So it seems Bishop was already a murderer before he betrayed us at the Keep. I don't know why I'm surprised, yet I am."

"All but two of them disappeared," Wolf corrected. "We need to find out what the other two are doing."

Hiram frowned and smacked his cudgel into his palm. "I've heard enough. Those gods-cursed Luskans aren't getting their slimy hands on our Captain or her companions to leave them to rot in some dungeon, and that's if they're lucky. Thoughtful of them to leave only two behind. I say we subdue them and lay an ambush for the others."

Mignon had been restraining herself from casting a Clean cantrip on Zeta's hair while she listened. The girl had such a lovely face, but she seemed determined to hide her looks. But given what she knew of her childhood as a Luskan slave, Mignon could understand why. She turned from her scrutiny of the girl to regard Hiram's look of grim determination. "Yes, papa Hiram, but two can still be formidable, no? Especially two Luskans trained to murder? Are we, even five of us, any match for them?"

She still wasn't sure why she came along on this outing except that she wanted a chance at some adventure away from her twin sister. Leather was very persuasive, promising the novice sorceress she would have plenty of opportunity to practice her spells if she joined them. She wondered for the first time if he had fascinated her into going. Her sister could do that, as could many Sharessan clerics. For her part, she had discovered from Sand the mind-numbing pleasure that came with giving herself over fully to the Weave. It was positively orgasmic, better than any physical lover she had ever had, and the pleasure only seemed to get better and stronger the more she practiced and the more she learned. But she also wanted to live to grow in power, and to her taking on two Luskan killers promised a fast, violent death.

Leather smiled saucily and walked over to her; his snakeskin trewes looked like they were painted on and leaving little to the imagination. He hitched up her skirts then adjusted her bodice to push her breasts higher. "Never fear, lovie. We two will distract them. We tell them we're _entertainers_ on our way to Waterdeep who got lost in the woods and separated from our companions. Or better yet whores, which we are. And we would be oh so grateful if they showed us kindness. _Very_ grateful. They should go for one or the other of us and the rest of you can get the drop on them. Then it's simply a matter of picking off the others when they return. Lay some traps, perhaps? Pity I can't summon large cats like the Mistress can."

She didn't look convinced. "You make it sound so simple, my sweet. What if they don't want either of us?"

Leather gasped in mock alarm then struck a seductive pose, running his hand down his lithe body. "Not want _this_? Not want you? Lovie, how could they resist?"

Hiram grimaced as he shouldered his cudgel and said with more confidence than he felt, "Sounds like a plan! We'll follow you two."

Wolf strung his bow so he would be ready if they had trouble with the Luskans and replied grimly, striking Hiram again of looking and sounding like he was sixteen going on forty, "Don't sound like the best plan, pops, but it's the best one we have. I'll lead the way."

At the Keep, two wagons were being readied and two squads of Greycloaks fell into formation outside the entrance to the bailey. Sergeant Bevil Starling glanced at Daeghun, waiting to lead the squad to Merdelain. A twitch at the corner of his mouth that had always made Bevil nervous (and still did) was the only hint of Daeghun's annoyance at the delay. But even though Kana and Light-of-Heavens had worked all night making arrangements, Lathander's rosy glow lit the Keep's walls and she hadn't given the orders for the rescue party to leave. Katriona squeezed Bevil's hand, detecting his own nervous twitch. They had decided that he and Daeghun should lead a fast-moving elite squad made up of members of the Captain's Company ahead of Katriona's squad, which would travel with the wagons and the supplies that either Kana had ordered or Jacoby had suggested they bring.

Bevil whispered to Katriona, "I don't think Daeghun is gonna stand for much more of this, and I can't say I blame him a bit." Katriona dared a glance at the elf, who didn't look much different than he usually did to her. But Bevil had grown up around him and could read his mood. "He looks like he's ready to strike out on his own."

As Kana walked over to the lead wagon and checked her inventory list once again, Katriona whispered, "I can't say I blame him either. The waiting is maddening. If we don't get going soon, she'll think up even more supplies that we might need, and then I'll be leading a third wagon."

She looked around to make sure they were out of the 'Cloaks' earshot and leaned close. "I'm going to miss you, Starling. If I had known she would be this thorough, we could have had time for a proper goodbye. I know we shouldn't speak of such things at a time such as this, but..."

Bevil flushed scarlet but grinned at her. What a difference a few days made. His bride had been so shy on their wedding night that he didn't coax her out of her small clothes until after he blew out all the candles and she had finished most of the bottle of wine; last night she was waiting for him to get off duty and tackled him as soon as he stepped through the door of their cottage. The mood of the Keep had been jubilant then as the remaining undead crumbled to dust and the shadowy gloom receded. The festhall reopened, and it was packed with off-duty 'Cloaks celebrating. It wasn't until Kana awakened them that they learned the truth. Neither of them had gotten much sleep after she left out of concern for the Captain and those who went with her to the Mere and anticipation of leaving at dawn.

Kheros Ironfist strode up to Kana, flanked by several dwarves. He stood with his arms crossed and cleared his throat loudly, waiting for her attention. She looked away from her list and down at him and said politely, "Yes, is there something I can help you with?"

Kheros replied gruffly, "Most of me clan are headin' back to the Ironfist Stronghold on the morrow, but a few of us decided they are going along with your troops to find our king, either alive, or bringin' him back to give him proper dwarven rites and reclaimin' the Ironfist artifacts he bears."

One of the dwarves standing just behind his right shoulder, a tall (for a dwarf) female with flaming red braids and a huge axe, shot him a murderous glare that could have felled a basilisk. She said tersely, "We _will _be findin' him alive, Kheros Ironfist, or bringin' him back to the priest for resurrectin' as the Captain ordered." She turned to Kana, having nothing else to say to Kheros that could be conveyed without using her fist. "Khalia Ironfist at yer service. We're ready to go whenever your troops are, and time's a wastin.' What are ye waitin' fer?"

Kana glanced up at the sky, shocked that the sun was as high as it was. She was so tired she couldn't think any more much less organize another thing, but she still had enough mental clarity to realize that she was delaying the rescue. "Very well, Khalia. We welcome your help. Report to Sergeant Katriona Starling."

She added to Kheros, "I would appreciate the favor if your remaining Ironfists could stay to help defend the Keep until the Greycloaks return from the Mere." She signaled Sergeant Bevil Starling as Kheros grunted his agreement and stalked off to give word to the remaining Ironfists. "Sergeant Starling, move out. Sergeant Starling, these Ironfists are accompanying you."

Bevil leaned down and startled Katriona with a quick kiss. "I'll see you in a few days, sweetie. Be careful. Pray that we find them walking back wondering what we're doing out there."

She ignored the stifled chuckles of some of the Greycloaks. "You be careful too, honey." She reluctantly let go of his hand and watched as he ordered his squad into formation and nodded at Daeghun to take the lead.

As Sand feared, the spell expired before they cleared the rubble, but as he hoped, they were close enough to what had been the roof that they were ejected onto the stone. They had the odd sensation of being thrown skyward a few feet then landing with a thud. Sand groaned in pain, and Elanee was beside him at once to cast a healing spell on his broken wrist. Grobnar had landed on his lute, shattering it. Elanee nudged Sand as he whispered a prayer of thanks to Mystra that they wouldn't have to endure the gnome's latest ballad as they made their plans.

They picked themselves up and looked around, blinking at the early morning light. Naloth growled, and Elanee pointed and shouted, "Look, there's Khelgar and Neeshka!"

Neeshka heard Elanee and squealed then grabbed Khelgar and gave him a kiss on the cheek. "Look! They're alive!"

Khelgar returned the hug and bellowed, "I know, I see 'em, lass, and a sight for sore eyes they are."

They moved as fast as they safely could to close the space between them and exchanged ecstatic embraces for a few minutes, though their joy was tempered by the by the absence of a large part of their company. Khelgar immediately let the rest know what he had seen regarding Dee. "We have to get back to the Keep so we can figure out who took her. But we have to get back here and get Casavir's..._body_ back too...and the the Gith lass." He flushed as Neeshka and Elanee both burst into tears. He didn't want to say it, but it wasn't the dwarven way to deny the obvious. "The rest there's no rush to reclaim. Qara will no doubt be taken to Neverwinter to be placed in the Tomb of the Betrayers if we find her. Bishop too if he didn't make it out."

"He had plenty of time to escape, and he was always most skilled at self-preservation," Sand sniffed as he wiped at his eyes. "I've no doubt he's halfway across the mountains by now. Black Garius certainly didn't have time to deal with his double treachery. But enough about him. I suppose it would have been expecting too much for Aldanon to have planned for a way to get us back, so we're on our own. Elanee, you can travel faster than the rest of us in the form of a bird or an air elemental. I suggest you go ahead of us. Grobnar and I can cast Haste spells on the rest of us, but it's still going to take time to reach the Keep."

"I will do that. May Silvanus grant my wings speed." Elanee gave Naloth a hug. "You take care of them, my friend. I'll see you soon." She took the form of a white-tailed swift and flew into the air, circling her companions before she sped off.

At the same moment, Aldanon was carrying a basket of muffins and cinnamon rolls back to the library. He wondered why no one was in the audience chamber, not even the guards. He had been trying to remember exactly what he had cast, and to his chagrin, remembered that he had forgotten to tell Sand what to do to reactivate the spell. Nor had he told anyone, for that matter. He scratched his backside while he thought about it and mumbled, "He's likely cursing me now." He smacked his forehead as he remembered part of the Contingency. "Of course, that's it! Hopefully he is!" He shambled over to the Captain's chair, where he sat and munched a roll as he waited.

And he didn't have long to wait, for the spell was set to trigger as soon as it could be cast again, the next day after he sent them off to the Mere of Dead Men. Everyone was still outside except for a guard who had just come on duty and looked askance at the sage sitting comfortably in the Captain's chair gobbling sticky buns. A pinpoint of light in the center of the chamber grew brighter and larger until it once again formed a shimmering portal. Aldanon continued to chew while the astonished guard drew his sword and stared at the portal then ran off in search of Kana. A few heartbeats later Sand blinked and stepped through the portal, followed by Naloth then the others. Aldanon chortled with glee. "There you are, right on time. Oh, but the others better hurry before the spell expires or who knows where they'll end up."

Sand uttered a filthy Elvish curse and glared at the sage. "You certainly might have warned us that we would have to wait a day or provided us with a standard Teleport spell to return. Lives depended on it!" He looked like he wanted to strangle him.

Neeshka was kissing the ground in relief at their safe return as Kana, who had just decided to allow herself to get some rest, ran in followed closely by Brother Ivarr and Sir Nevalle. "You're back! I've just sent a rescue party, but we can send a rider on a fast horse to recall them." As soon as the words left her, however, she noted the absence of the rest.

Sand met her eyes and answered the frightened question in them that she hadn't found the nerve to ask with a nod. "Don't send them back, but do indeed send them word that this is going to be a recovery mission and then some. I'll let Khelgar explain."

Grobnar had no sooner followed the others through the portal than another popped into existence near the ruined door. The Luskans tumbled out, weapons drawn, spells ready. The mage in red retrieved something from her belt pouch and held it up, turning in a tight circle as the others got into defensive postures and peered around for any of the Neverwintan party. She hushed one of the men who spotted the other portal and turned into another circle, but the presence of the other portal answered her question. She shrieked, "No! Bethshaba's twat! We've missed it again!"

The big man with the assassin's tattoo on his hand cursed as well and ran his hand through his hair. "Well that's it then, Glyden. We're fucked when we get back."

The woman in well-oiled leather swallowed hard, already considering whether she could make a break for it before the others cut her down. She had no intention of returning to Luskan to face their masters. A distraction was in order. "Might as well have a look around, Ragnar. Look at this place. No way they all made it out alive. That way we don't have to go back completely empty handed."

The big man grunted at her and cursed again. "Yeah, but no way we're getting them out if they're buried." He was also at that moment considering whether he could redeem himself in the eyes of their masters by killing his companions and laying the blame for failure on them. But he dismissed that idea. Glyden and the priest were too well-connected in the Hosttower.

The scantily-clad mage reached into her belt pouch and nodded at the man in gray, who was standing back trying to take in the scope of the damage. "Leave that to us two. You need only be ready to subdue anyone we find inside, and if they're dead, Braden will take care of them."


	45. A Desperate Man is Even Harder to Find

Chapter 45 A Desperate Man is even Harder to Find

Dee meets new friends and old enemies in Mulsantir.

Usual disclaimers: The characters in this story are owned by Bioware, Atari, Hasbro, and a whole lot of other people other than me other than a bear and paladin-lovin' ranger and an occasional NPC. More dialog than I like is paraphrased from MotB in this chapter, but sometimes it can't be helped. As always, reviews, concrit and pm discussions are always welcome.

**Mulsantir:**

Three women, faces concealed by colorful masks, blocked their way as they exited the theater. A crowd had gathered outside the entrance, those in the back straining to see over the heads of those in front. Dee could hear them murmuring though they seemed reluctant to raise their voices in the presence of the witches. She let Safiya do the talking, having learned that particular lesson from Sand during the trial. She was a stranger here and knew nothing of the local customs and laws, and there were a number of dead Red Wizards behind them to explain, besides Lienna's death.

Cillian growled at the women as Safiya stepped in front of her and eyed the witches defiantly, yet Dee could hear the nervous strain in her voice as she spoke. "Keep your distance, witches! I've studied your laws, and I know we've broken none!"

The leader of the three and the eldest judging from the silver braid that flowed out behind her mask replied as if scolding a petulant child, shaking her finger at Safiya. "You know our laws, but I know _you_, child, even if these others do not. You will best be served by being quiet."

Dee looked into the witches' eyes trying to gain some perspective on nature of the women behind the masks. The other two witches were young. In the eyes of the first she saw fear; of the second she saw hate, and not a heartbeat later that witch hissed, "Sheva, the girl's companion—it's _that one_, who draws the bear god's army to our gate!" Being on the receiving end of such hate made Dee shiver involuntarily; this witch wouldn't hesitate to kill her because of it.

Dee met the eyes of their leader, pools of gray serenity, and she met Dee's eyes in return. "You may address us as the Wychleran, foreigner. What is your name and your business here?"

Dee bowed to her. She might not know local customs, but she had learned quite a bit about diplomacy during her time in Neverwinter. Azim had told her that the witches were not only the guardians of the shrine of the triune goddesses, but also the lawful authority here. So she used her rank, sending them a subtle message that she was a person who would be missed, even if her liege lord was on the other side of the world.

"I am Lady Dierdre Farlong, ranger of Meilikki and knight in service to His Excellency Lord Nasher Alagondar of Neverwinter. I mean no harm here. I was abducted from my homeland by shadow creatures and brought to Rashemen, and I don't know what I did to anger the bear god other than to wake up in his barrow. My bonded here doesn't know anything either, nor does this woman who found me. We came here to seek Lienna at the _Veil Theater,_ who was supposed to have answers for me, but we were too late—she has been murdered by Red Wizards. I swear this is true by Meilikki whom I serve, and by Tyr, patron of Neverwinter." She watched them for their reaction to try to read from their faces whether they believed her.

The taller witch whispered shrilly, "Then it is true what Magda said! Thayans materialized from the very shadows..."

The older woman chastised her. "Katya, you are no longer a farm girl, you are a witch now." 'So act like it' was implied.

Katya bowed her head and said softly, "Yes, Sheva."

The short, plump one hissed, "But can you not sense the wrongness about her, Sheva."

The leader turned her attention to her. "Peace, Kazimika." To Dee and Safiya she added calmly, "You fought our enemies the Red Wizards, and for that much may be forgiven."

Dee gasped, "Forgiven? I've done nothing wro..." Safiya nudged her with her elbow.

"Yes, child, _forgiven, _for_..._"

The one called Katya interrupted her leader again. "Kazimika is right. If you are a ranger you know the wild. Surely you must sense the fury in the land and the trembling in the earth..." Her voice became shrill again and Dee noted that she trembled with fear though she tried to hide it. But Dee had a sickening feeling she was right. She reached down and put her hand on Cillian to ground herself, because her head was starting to spin.

Sheva ignored Katya and continued calmly. "The bear god has marched an army of spirits to our gate, and he roars for your blood. He says you have defiled his sacred den and loosed a great evil upon the world."

The one called Kazimika interrupted again and said smugly, "And the bear god does not lie, foreigner. I can smell the wrongness that hangs on you like a corpse-shroud."

Sheva scolded her companion more harshly this time. _Peace_, Kazimika! Let me deal with this." Kazimika apparently had too much hubris to hang her head in shame as Katya had done. She glared at Dee and Safiya as Sheva continued.

"As I was saying, for the debt we owe you for your defeat of our mortal enemies the Thayans who attacked the theater, I give you permission to go to our prison to seek what aid you can. Any prisoner who will assist you will be granted a full pardon. You may ask if any others here will aid you, but you will find that the Rashemi people will not stand against the spirits of the land."

Dee sighed in resignation. "That seems fair, but I must speak with Magda. Lienna may have told her something about why I was brought here."

Sheva shook her head emphatically. "Magda is under our protection and will be kept safe from Okku's army, and from you. We will watch the battle from our high place. Should you survive, come to us and we will receive you there. Make your peace with the bear god by whatever means you deem best."

Kazimika couldn't resist getting the last word in. "The bear god will make peace with you once you are in his belly, foreigner!" Sheva shot her a look that promised a lecture later when they returned to their shrine before they disappeared in a flash of light.

Dee and Safiya looked at each other. Dee mumbled, "Sorry to drag you into this."

Safiya said dismissively. "If anything, my mother was the one to drag me into this. I suppose this is as good a time as any to seek allies. And then I suggest resting before we take on the bear god. I'm tired, and you have dark circles under your eyes. You may be coming down with something."

Dee turned to the crowd, which to a man had decided to rapidly disperse towards the safety of their homes before she had the time to ask any of them. A few paused long enough to make gestures of warding off evil at Dee before they ran home and slammed their doors. But two remained and approached them, a man and woman the likes of which Dee had never seen. They were tall, graceful, and beautiful, and what was more remarkable was that they both had wings! In addition, the male was wearing an outlandish helm adorned with deer antlers. Dee's first thought was to wonder how he got through doorways.

The man smiled and bowed gracefully despite the helm. "Excuse me. We could not help but overhear about your troubles. I am Efrem the Stag, and this is my sister Susah the Crow." He offered Dee his hand in greeting. "You seek warriors to help you fight the bear god's army. We have a proposition for you..."

A few minutes later Efrem and Susah walked away talking softly together. Dee had been dying to ask them if they could fly the whole time she talked with them, but she didn't want to insult new allies. She watched them go. "Well that's two, and six of us counting Kaji and Cill."

"Yes, and don't forget about that Orglash creature. Not a bad start if their sister joins us too. Now we only need to find her in Shadow Mulsantir."

Dee ran her hand through her hair nervously. "I would just as soon wait to head back into Shadow Mulsantir to look for her until we have more certain allies. But I am anxious to find their sister. I about jumped out of my skin when Efrem said she was there seeking the death god's vault that was mentioned in that book I found in the barrow. This can't be a coincidence."

"Why not go now tonight then? The portals will only be visible in darkness." Safiya paused and pointed. "Why look! There's one now!" She pointed at an unmistakable dark oval, the edges of which pulsed with colors. It hung in the air between two houses, visible only to those who had touched a shadow stone who had the will to see what was hidden.

Dee had already had enough of the shadow plane to last her three lifetimes and said wearily, "I've seen the kind of creatures that dwell in shadow, Safiya. I don't doubt but that we'll have to fight our way to the temple to find her only to have to fight Okku when we return."

Safiya cast a warning glare at a berserker who muttered something as they passed and leaned close to Dee, "Would you rather go straight to the prison then?"

Dee shook her head. "I don't want to go to the prison just yet. I know I'm being difficult, but can we really trust condemned prisoners who are as likely to bolt as not once we're outside the gate? Let's go ask some of the city guards instead and save the prison as a last resort. I've heard that these berserkers live to fight."

But as Sheva Whitefeather had warned, few would exchange more than a word with them, and none would help them. They found one berserker on guard duty who wasn't afraid to speak with them. Though he heartily laughed and declined to help, he suggested they have a few stiff drinks of the local rotgut before they took on Okku so their deaths would be less painful and directed them to the _Ice Troll Lodge_, though he wasn't optimistic any there would help either.

The berserkers of the _Ice Troll Lodge_ were friendlier, but none were willing to go against the spirits of the land, who they warned had long memories. She thought it was a pity as they would have been welcome allies. Most of the berserkers were very strong and tall, and several of the women were even taller than Dee. More than one gave her a friendly slap on the back and called her 'little woman' as they passed her a mug of strong, black ale. That was definitely a new experience for her.

Safiya suggested in a whisper that she try to join their lodge. Dee asked Yulia the herbalist about it and was told she had to pass several initiation rites, but if she could, they would welcome her as a sister. She arm-wrestled a giant of a man. He handily slammed her arm on the table but was careful not to hurt anything but her pride. Another challenge involved taking on the lodge members in a fight, but she knew she was in no shape to beat anyone but the youngest members, so she didn't even ask about the other challenges. There was nothing else to do but try elsewhere. Several of the denizens walked them to the door and promised to watch the glorious fight from the wall and have drinks waiting for them if somehow they avoided being slaughtered.

They could hear bolts being thrown on doors as they walked down the road and sensed eyes watching their passage from behind shutters. "Let's try the docks. I'm thinkin' that many of the sailors down there aren't native Rashemi and might be more willing to help. It'll probably cost us though."

"Good thinking, and we could get a room at that place, _The Sloop, _wasn't it? I might be able to buy some aid with a few enchantments on weapons."

They found _The Sloop_, a dockside tavern which also contained a theater. The air was heavy with smoke from a variety of pipe weed, and Dee caught a trace of black lotus. Apparently the docks district was the same everywhere. They felt all the eyes in the room turn on them as they entered then turn away to study their drinks once they were recognized. Apparently word had traveled fast. Dee made the offer to the patrons anyway, sweetening the deal by demonstrating the enchantments on her swords, though most seemed even more interested in the contents of their mugs, and a few left. A loud bunch at a table across the tavern—pirates from the look of them—laughed and responded with catcalls.

There was one familiar face—the merchant who they had encountered outside the city. He was more talkative than he had been on the other side of the gate having gotten safely inside and having drunk several drinks, and he cheerily informed them that one of his men had set up a pool to wager on how long they would last against the bear god's army.

Dee and Safiya read through the grid crudely scrawled in chalk on a slate. The man had arranged it by number of blows, and those with less than ten were gone. No one wagered they would last more than twenty, and there were a few special squares on the last row in case someone wanted to wager on whether they would try to sneak out of town or swim across Lake Mulsantir. Or commit suicide. There was even one labeled, "Run to Shadows." Those options had also been taken. At the top on the far right were the options that they would defeat Okku in five, ten, and twenty blows. No one had taken _those_ bets. Dee smiled sweetly at them and lay down ten gold on herself to win in ten blows.

The innkeeper was a slight, balding man wearing a dirty, beer-soaked apron which made her remember Uncle Duncan wistfully. He wouldn't meet their eyes as he apologized and mumbled that his rooms were all let. He shrugged helplessly and cast a nervous glance at his wife, a powerfully-built half-orc who glared at them while she wiped out mugs with a none too clean rag. He explained, "There's been two ships come in this day. Try again tomorrow."

They turned to leave and heard a lewd offer to share the bed of a sailor whose crude explanation of what he wanted to do to their asses in return for his hospitality gave an ugly cast to his fine features. Those at his table reeked from two tables away of unwashed bodies and stale beer. Dee clenched her fists and ignored him as he and his friends laughed loudly then tried to outdo one another in crudeness, but Safiya cast him a withering glare and pointed her staff at them. "Take care, or I'll see to it you don't have anything left to offer a woman."

Dee said loudly enough for them to hear, "Ignore them, Safiya. They've never had a woman they didn't pay for, and I don't doubt but that the local farmers have to hide their sheep when that lot is in town."

Safiya giggled and Cillian chuffed a warning at the sailors while Dee made a quick inventory of their weapons and armor—boiled leather and cutlasses and daggers for the most part. One laughed loudly until what she had implied sunk in through the alcoholic haze, and then he cursed and threatened to make a cloak out of Cillian. The man who had made the initial 'offer' nudged his neighbor and said loudly enough to get the attention of the whole room, "Yonder wench has a Thayan look to her, don't you think? I've fought too damned many Thayans to let that pass. What do you want to bet that if I strip that head rag off her, she's bald underneath? Let's find out if she's bald all over then turn her over to the witches for a reward."

He jumped to his feet and stalked menacingly towards Safiya, but Dee jumped in front of her and intercepted him with a right hook that sent him sprawling into a flimsy table which collapsed under his weight. His companions were on their feet in a heartbeat with cutlasses drawn.

Dee drew her own swords in response in the time it took to take a breath as Cillian charged them. She hoped as she slashed left and punched right with her pommel that Safiya had enough spells left not to be a liability, but a sickening crack as her staff connected with a skull answered that question. The next few minutes were a haze of fists and swords and flying magical energy. It was over as quickly as it began. Three of the sailors lay dead; one lay on the floor holding his hand over a deep cut to his thigh. Dee spit out a mouthful of blood and a tooth then knelt beside him. He trembled from shock and fear and begged for his life, but she lay a hand on his thigh and called on Meilikki to grant her a healing spell. It wasn't very powerful, but it was enough to staunch the bleeding.

Dee shook the ice pellets of blood off her short sword and looked around the room. "Anyone else here not know how to treat a lady?" She glared around the tavern. No one met her eyes. "Good. Safiya, let's get out of here. Come on, my love." Cillian growled a final warning and followed.

The owner's wife was blocking the door with her arms folded over her chest. She grumbled, "You owe us for damages. That's two smashed tables and a chair, and more for cleanin' up this mess! That'll be five hundred gold!"

"What? We didn't start this!," Safiya spat indignantly.

Her husband shouted anxiously, having come out of his hiding place behind the bar, "Let it go, Zorah. You've seen what they can do."

"I used to help out servin' food and drinks at my uncle's tavern. These tables aren't worth even fifty gold, but I'll give you that much for your trouble," Dee said evenly as she counted out the coins.

The half-orc held out her hand, gave her a tusky grin, and accepted the coins. "Fifty it is. We might even have a room for you tomorrow _if _you survive." As Dee and Safiya strode out, Dee heard the woman shout, "Oi! Give me five gold on them to defeat the bear god too."

They walked along the docks, cognizant that they were being shadowed by people curious to see if they would try to steal a boat and escape. The few sailors and dock workers they found there answered their inquiry rudely, and one who had seen the fight shrieked and ran away. No one was desperate enough to throw their lives away for any amount of money, not that they had all that much left to offer anyway. Dee looked crestfallen, but she told Safiya she could understand. She admitted wasn't sure she would take up such an offer either if the situation was reversed, and Safiya had to agree with her.

"To the prison then?" Dee nodded at Safiya in defeat.

The prison was on the opposite side of the town. They paused at the wall which surrounded Mulsantir and peered into the darkness, where they could just make out the colorful bear god below. The guard at the gate opened the door and let them pass, and Safiya jumped as the gates slammed shut behind them. Dee knocked firmly on the inner door.

A moment later, an bent elderly woman wearing a mask pulled it open and said crossly. "Sheva Whitefeather told me to expect you. It took you long enough. Come along. The cells are this way." She pointed a bony finger down the hallway after she unlocked the door to the gaol. "You might find some here who would prefer an honorable death in battle over a disgraceful death by hanging, but I doubt it. Oh, and take care when you reach the prisoner in the cell at the end of the hall. He's a spirit shaman, who travels with the spirits of the land. Tricky that one is. Guard your thoughts." She shuffled back to her desk , shutting them in the gaol.

They walked along the row of cells. The first prisoner, a huge, ugly, blue-skinned brute, who Safiya whispered was a hagspawn, had been arrested for murder, but he seemed resigned to his fate and unwilling to stand against the spirits of the land. The other prisoners had heard Dee's request to him. Most turned on their bunks with their faces to the wall as they approached and made it clear they were ignoring them. One man simply shook his head 'no' sadly as they stopped before his cell. They reached the end of the row, where they found not bars but a very solid door. Dee peered inside the cell through the small barred window in the door and could just make out a figure lying on a pallet in the middle of the floor. "What the hells? Door's not even locked," she muttered to Cillian.

Safiya slipped up beside her to see and spoke the word to activate the light on her staff then raised a thin eyebrow as she directed the light inside the cell. She whispered, "That's because this prisoner is being held by a binding spell. See those runes on the floor?"

A young man's drawl, dripping with annoyance, broke the silence. "What's this, more jailers to rattle my cage?" They heard him yawn and watched him stretch lazily. "Here I was just settling into a dream and now you've gone and spoiled it."

Dee opened the door and blinked in surprise. The man had long, wild hair that fell across half his handsome face, but the half she could see had a distinct bluish tinge. "Who are you? What is the crime you have committed that they've locked you up like this?" The warnings of the crone in charge of the prison came back to her.

He stood gracefully and stretched again. "Me? I am known as Gannyev-of-dreams, though most simply call me Gann. And I've committed no crime other than being too handsome to look upon. You best take care, tall one, lest you succumb to my charms as well."

Dee managed to suppress the urge to roll her eyes, but her reply was heavy with sarcasm. "Thanks for the warning. I will restrain myself—somehow. No, I'm not your jailer, but I might be your benefactor."

She winced at the hollow promise of her words as the man chuckled lightly then replied, "Ah, honeyed words promising...what exactly is it you're promising? My _benefactor_, are you? Go on then, amuse me."

Safiya had been peering at the circle marked in chalk on the floor. "Dee...Those runes..."

He chucked with contempt. "These? Some child must have come by and scribbled them while I slept."

Safiya put a hand on Dee's arm. "No, they were scribed with some skill. But I can tell that they've been altered. From the inside."

The man gasped and looked around his cell in mock alarm, putting his face in his hands. "From the inside? Are you certain, fair mage? It seems we have a mystery. Who could have done it? Certainly not me, for I have an alibi."

Dee raised an eyebrow as she looked from Safiya to the man. "That would render them ineffective, wouldn't it? And if the witch didn't even notice, whoever could alter her binding with her unawares would have to be _very_ good." She had wanted to recruit him as soon as the old witch told her he could speak with the animal spirits, and she was more eager now, if he had that level of skill.

Safiya nodded. "Quite so." She looked impressed too.

The man looked impressed with them as well. "Ah, the sweet arrows of flattery have found their target. You may actually be worth my time. Go on then, what is this _generous_ offer?" He glided a few steps closer. "Go on, before I grow bored."

Dee adjusted her spectacles and peered at him. There was something familiar about him, but she couldn't put her finger on it. She relayed this to Cillian, but the bear had never encountered his scent, though he reported this male smelled like the hagspawn they has spoken with before, which would explain the blueish hue to his skin. "I'm looking for recruits to take on the bear god's army which threatens the town."

He cut her off, and the contempt had returned to his voice. "I dreamed about that. I was wondering when that would happen in this world. But I am neither a fool, nor am I that desperate. If you are seeking soldiers, go scatter a few coins at the poorhouse."

Dee snapped, "Yeah, that's always the solution. Let the poor risk their lives fighting other's wars." She shook her head. "But I've been promised by Sheva Whitefeather you will have a full pardon if you stand with us. Don't you want your freedom?"

He laughed disdainfully. "My freedom? We both know I'm much safer inside this cell than are the good people of Mulsantir huddling in their hovels. And we both know I could have left any time I wanted to."

Dee countered, "Yes, but if you help us defeat Okku, the spirits will speak of it for years. You will be a very powerful shaman indeed."

He snorted. "I'm not altogether sure that's the kind of fame I seek." He stepped closer still and looked her over, noting the two swords and the bear companion. "And you, ranger, what did you or your friend do to stir up old king bear to come for you in all his garishly-colored rage, hmm?" He clicked his tongue at her and wagged his finger. "Grave robbers, are you? Now you know the consequences."

Dee said defensively, "It's a long story I'll share if you'll join us. We didn't rob his grave. At least not much. Besides, I think he's the most beautiful creature I've ever seen. And I feel like...I _know_ him. I just wish I knew how to make peace with him." She reached down to ruffle Cillian's neck. "Cill thought mayhap if we drained the lake of fish, but he's not so sure now."

Yet he did still look interested as he replied. "So tell me why one as beautiful as I should risk my life to follow you into such a hopeless battle? You do know it's hopeless, don't you?"

Dee smiled her most brilliant smile at him as something occurred to her. "Well you haven't told me to leave, so there must be a reason. Is that a yes?"

He looked away and shrugged dismissively. "Take care lest the witches throw you in here for being charming as well—even if you two are not as beautiful as I." He smirked at the eye-roll this provoked from both of the women. "I only speak the truth. Don't hate me for it. I admit that your presence and your request do intrigue me—slightly. My dreams showed me the army coming to the gate, but they did not reveal _you_, and that is very odd indeed. I honestly don't know what to make of that. Very well, you've found a willing soldier. Lead the way. However, I must collect my bow and my pack from the dear old witch and thank her for her _hospitality_."

Safiya, Kaji, and Cillian walked back to let the witch know they were ready to leave and to make arrangements to sign Gann out while Dee waited for him. Dee frowned deep in thought as he gathered his armor, which he had removed for the night. She muttered, "Dreams. That's it!"

He paused while fastening the straps on his brigandine. "You said something about dreams, fair leader?"

She blushed and stood aside for him. "This is very strange, and I don't expect you to believe me. You say you did not dream me, but I'm sure I dreamed you. I just can't remember all of it, but I'm sure." She shrugged sheepishly. "I had a blow to the head recently and my memory's still foggy."

He scoffed at her. "I assure you I don't have the ability to cross the world to play inside your dreams, though I sense they're very...lusty ones, in every sense of the word."

He caught another blush as she turned away. "Only the ones about my _husband_. Nevertheless, 'tis true. I'm certain I dreamed you, but I can't remember all the details. But...I remember now my friend Neeshka was there too. I'll tell you about it after we make peace with Okku."

Dee gladly turned over most of the enchanted arrows they had taken from the gnolls to Gann as well as a crossbow and bolts, happy to have someone who could use them and give her cover. They debated finding a place to stay for the night and setting out before dawn to find Kaelyn the Dove or pressing on then resting first before leaving the city.

Safiya noted the absence of other inns. "We can take shelter in one of the barns if need be. I was hoping to have a quiet place to enhance the enchantments on our weapons though."

Dee shrugged. "I wouldn't mind sharin' a barn, but I was thinking we should go back to the theater to Lienna's room. We still have to search it, and there's no one there now to stop us. Besides, she must have been your mother's twin if that vision I had was true, so you can claim right of kin. You can add as many enchantments as you can to our weapons and armor before we meet Okku without interruption."

Gann looked over the arrows as he placed them in his quiver. "I would prefer meeting Old King Bear rested. And you should be warned that the creatures who dwell in shadow will sense the presence of the living and attack us as soon as we set foot through the portal, so that's another reason to prepare ourselves."

Safiya agreed, "I suppose you're right, and I can use Lienna's workbench too. Let's return at dawn then. But what if the theater is locked?"

Dee chuckled darkly. "My friend Neesh taught me to look around; there's _always_ a back door or unguarded window or kitchen midden. We'll get in, and Kaji can deal with any locks we find."

Neeshka's advice proved true; there was indeed a back door with a lock that proved difficult but not impossible for Kaji's long, slender fingers to open. It led them to a hallway under the stage, and they found a spiral staircase that led to the storage rooms behind the stage. They searched Lienna's room thoroughly but found nothing which yielded any new information for Dee, but Safiya found a number of scrolls, wands, rods, and a fine mage's robe while Gann found a mask that he asked to keep. Dee removed her new boots as Cillian made himself comfortable on the rug. As she removed her armor she said, "I think we should all sleep in here."

Gann waggled his eyebrows at her. "You are very bold, but I am not so easily won."

Dee grinned back at him. "Don't get any ideas, Gann-of-Dreams. Safiya can take her aunt's bed and I'll sleep on the floor with Cill. And you can take the other side of the bear."

She dreamed that night that she was searching for Casavir again in the gray emptiness. She finally found him lying prone, but his hand was so cold. He looked up at her and whispered her name, and she kissed him before he faded from view. Then instead of Casavir she saw Bishop in the gray. He reached out to her as well, but then withdrew his hand with a curse as she almost reached him. She woke up in a cold sweat and got up to peer out the small window concealed behind a heavy curtain then awakened Safiya, who had been up late putting another enchantment on Dee's swords. Gann was already up sitting cross-legged with his eyes closed on the floor next to Cillian, and Dee had a feeling from a small smile that played on the edges of his lips he had seen what she dreamed.

They decided it was prudent to go back to the portal they had spotted that was closest to where Myrkul's temple should be rather than use the one in Lienna's room, which would leave them half way across the city from their goal. Gann's prediction proved correct. They were attacked by wraiths and shadow spiders as soon as they entered Shadow Mulsantir. They fought their way to the temple, where they had to fight nightwalkers. Dee had thought that if she survived the King of Shadows she would never have to face their kind again.

Unlike the other structures in the shadow realm, this temple bore little resemblance to the temple of Kelemvor it should have reflected. Dee whispered a prayer of thanks to Tymora that they had Kaji to disarm a particularly nasty trap on the door that was beyond her meager skill. They entered cautiously, expecting more undead. There was a fountain in the main foyer and dark thick pools of liquid bubbling from it. "Gods, it's blood!" Dee exclaimed, feeling sickened. What kind of horrors had occurred here?

They crossed the chamber looking around warily for defenders and entered another chamber before they saw her. But her pearl gray wings and white feathery hair made her hard to miss, for she was radiant in the gloom. Gann whispered the obvious. "That must be our dove now." She was standing with her back to them before a large black door which only made her more luminescent, and seemed unaware of their presence.

Dee hailed her. "Well met! You must be Kaelyn the Dove. We've been looking for you."

The woman startled and turned to them, but her face was a mask of sweet serenity. "Yes I am Kaelyn, called the Dove, priestess of Ilmater, and I can guess that if you are seeking me my siblings Susah and Efrem sent you to find me."

Dee motioned her companions on and took the lead, introducing herself and them to her as they crossed the chamber. "Indeed they did. They're very worried about you and want you to return to your grandfather's home. But I also came because they said you were seeking the death god's vault, and I seek it as well. Have you had any luck finding it?"

Kaelyn turned back to the black door. "No, and I would welcome the help. It has been difficult to avoid the denizens of this temple while I search alone. I have a feeling it's beyond this portal, but I have been unable to find any way to open it. There must be some sort of key that fits here in this slot."

There was a small, flat slot in the center of the door. Dee looked closely at it. "Yes, but it's unlike a traditional key. It's more like...a blade fits in it." She stepped back to let Kaji have a go and noticed murals of a battle on either side of the door. At first glance they were identical. "There must be some reason—some thing's bein' emphasized. Mayhap there's a clue in the scene?" She examined the one on the left. Men, fiends, and even dragons fought one another beside a gray wall. She muttered a curse and stared at it open mouthed for a minute then strode to the one on the other side of the door and peered at the central figure, reaching out to touch the sword he raised above his head. "What the hells!"

Safiya was examining the runes on the black door that the woman had been studying, while Kaji looked for a way to open it. She looked up. "What is it, Dee?"

Gann, who was on guard lest they be surprised by more undead creatures, was instantly on alert and readied two lightning arrows, and Cillian raised up on his hind legs and sniffed the air.

Kaelyn walked to Dee's side. "What is it you see? These murals depict the betrayer, Akachi and his army's attack on Myrkul's city to free his lost love from the _Wall of the Faithless_. You seem startled by something."

Dee ran her fingers over the figure in the center again. "This is Akachi? That's _my _sword he's holding! That's the Sword of Gith that was stolen from me!" She leaned back against the wall, suddenly unsure of her legs as she became aware of one possibility for 'why' she had been brought here. "Then this means Akachi was a sword bearer too." She tried to remember what Ammon Jerro had told her about the sword bearers. "Could it be I am bound to him through the sword, or is someone trying to force me to repeat his crusade?"

Kaelyn smiled sweetly and put a comforting hand on her shoulder. "I cannot tell you, but perhaps we might both find answers to our questions if we explore this temple together. I was reluctant to go too far alone, for there are many powerful undead here that even Ilmater's power cannot turn. But with the aid of you, and your companions..."

"I can't speak for Safiya and Gann, but I swear by Meilikki and Tyr I will return with you to explore this temple. But first, I must beg a favor of you." She shook her head. "No, that's not true; 'tis not a mere favor. I've somehow angered a powerful bear spirit, and he threatens this town unless I face him. It may be a fight to the death..."

Kaelyn offered her hand. "This cannot be a coincidence, I agree. Very well, I shall go with you. Perhaps this bear spirit can be reasoned with, and then we may return and find the way to the lower level."

Gann chuckled. "Perhaps, but he has a reputation for being as surly as he is garish...sorry, dear leader, I mean _colorful and beautiful_. I suggest we return to the theater and make sure of our spells and weapons before we face him."

They saw few people but the berserkers on guard duty as they reentered Mulsantir, but they were aware their activities were being noted and reported. Kaelyn begged Dee to release her siblings from their vow in exchange for her service, so she had to agree. She scrawled a hasty letter to Casavir in care of the High Justicar Oleff letting him know what had happened to her and left it with Azim along with the gold he still owed her to find someone to carry it to Neverwinter if she didn't survive.

One of the guards, who belonged to the _Ice Troll Lodge, _offered her his flask and wished her well just before they stepped outside Mulsantir and he closed the gates behind them. A few brave, or foolish, citizens had already come outside of the gates to get a close-up view of the fight, and many more lined the walls. It brought to mind her trial by combat against Lorne. The sun was directly overhead as they paused to examine what they were up against and cast their protective and summoning spells. Gann advised attacking Okku's minions first before turning their attacks on the bear god.

The bear stood a quarter mile in the distance, seemingly content to wait for her to come to him despite his legendary anger. Safiya and Gann stayed back just within range of their spells and arrows while Kaelyn followed Dee but held back while she approached Okku. She knelt beside Cillian and put her arm around him. "This is it, my love. I don't want you to have to fight him for my sake. I'll send you back to Meilikki now and mayhap join you there shortly."

Cillian snorted. "_I stay. Father Bear will understand our bond and why I fight beside you." _

She buried her face in his fur. "Very well, my love. And thanks."

Okku was even more brilliantly colored in the strong highsun light than she remembered, and again, she had to fight the urge to bow before him. She spoke reverently. "I don't know what I've done to anger you, Great One. Is there no way I can make amends and spare my companions and your subjects?"

He chuffed angrily, and she could see the fire in his golden eyes. "You can yield your neck to me. It will fit snugly between my teeth, and I will take you with me back to my barrow where you will stay."

She blinked in the face of his anger, but that only strengthened her sense of outrage at the injustice of his reaction. "I think not. No, not when I don't know my crime. That's not how I see myself dying."

Okku growled loudly in response to Cillian's growl at him. "This cub who follows you would not, if he knew what you were. But he is too young to sense the evil inside you, and neither do you. If you understood, I think you would willingly submit yourself to me."

Dee replied grimly, "There's nothing for it then. But you're wrong about me, and I'll take no joy in destroying you, Father Bear." She gave him a short bow and stepped back.

He lowered his head in a slight bow of mutual respect in return. "And I will take no joy in ending your life either, little one. But believe me, it must be done. It is better you die here today and never learn what thing you are becoming."

The witches watched the battle from above on the wall along with as many berserkers and other citizens as could fit. The younger two witches were astonished that such a small force could prevail against Okku's much larger force. Katya shouted, "Look, the bear god has bitten her neck, and her blood flows! But wait, he has laid bare his heart to her sword! And he has fallen! Surely this is a sign that the foreigner is innocent and the goddess is with her."

Kazimika countered, not taking her eyes off the scene below, "This only proves how very _wrong_ this foreigner is. Look, she speaks to him. Why has she not finished him? Why does she hesitate?"

Sheva made no comment as she watched, not taking her eyes off the woman as if she was waiting for something. And then something happened that made even Sheva gasp in alarm as Katya shrieked in terror, and her scream was echoed by other observers on the wall.

Kazimika stared at the scene below them and shouted, "By the triple goddess, what is that?"


	46. Making It up as We Go Along

Chapter 46 Making It up as We Go Along, or a Good Man is Hard to Save

Usual disclaimers: Most of the characters in this story are owned by Bioware, Atari, Hasbro, and a whole lot of other people other than a bear and paladin-lovin' ranger and an occasional NPC. Lots of NPCs in this case.

Leather and Mignon led the way to the Luskan camp as the others left to get into position. She put her dainty white hand on his shoulder and whispered, "You are nervous, no? I certainly am."

He paused and gave her an affectionate kiss on the cheek. "As I always am before I go on stage to dance, lovie. Or when some big, smelly, hairy teamster sneaks in to the back door of the festhall looking for a purty boy. Follow my lead. Remember our story and give the others time. And remember, we're _fabulous_."

She returned a slightly less nervous smile. "You are so very cocky."

He smirked and ran a hand through his thick, golden hair, which fell just below his ears. "Yes, that's one of my biggest charms. That's what Sir Nevalle says anyway. Never fear. At the worst you're going to have to show a Luskan pig your lovely tits."

They made enough noise so that the Luskans had to know someone was coming, and enough noise to cover Hiram's crashing through the brush. Leather didn't know where the other two were, but he knew they could be silent as a ghost if they needed to be, especially that strange, sneaky little girl. When they could see the low fire through the trees, Leather called out, "Help us, please."

The Luskans didn't react as they crashed into the clearing other than to look up at them. The man in the chain mail shirt was sharpening a skinning knife beneath a rope he had rigged up in a tree as hunters did to hang a carcass for skinning and gutting. The woman was laying out sets of shackles among others that had been cleaned. "What the hells are you doing out here!," the man with the knife barked.

Leather tried to sound weak. "Water, please..."

Mignon leaned against him for support, also trying to look exhausted. She repeated his call for water and emphasized her Cormyran accent. "And food, if you have it...we are so 'ungry. Thank the gods we found your camp."

Neither of the Luskans moved to help, but the man with the knife pointed at them menacingly. "You didn't answer my question."

Leather hoped the others were in position by now as he repeated the story he had been rehearsing in his mind. "We are actors traveling with our troupe to Waterdeep...skeletons and zombies attacked us in the night and killed two of our friends. We ran and ran and just escaped with our lives. Another of our friends died of her wounds last night. We've been walking for hours, and then we smelled your campfire. Please help us."

Mignon tried to look as if she was about to faint. "Have mercy. We would be very grateful. Please, I have a few silvers, or we could work for you to repay your 'ospitality." She tried to look desperate enough to do anything.

The woman scowled and tossed a water skin and a pouch of hardtack at Leather. "Take it and get moving!," she snapped and looked away quickly. Whether these two knew it or not, she _was _trying to be merciful by sending them away. She watched her companion warily out of the corner of her eye as she continued to work. She shared his bedroll, so she knew better than anyone what he could be like.

The man stood and gave them a tight, cruel smile, rubbing the lacing on his trewes suggestively. "How grateful exactly?" The others might be back for hours, and he was bored with the dirty work Ragnar had left for them. He wasn't above letting these two show him how grateful they were before he slit their throats and kicked their bodies into a nearby gulch, or used them as practice for skinning Bishop when he got his hands on him. Or not, depending on how his mood struck him. "Both of you feelin' grateful?"

Leather handed the waterskin to Mignon, who drank as if very thirsty before she turned it over to him. She bit her lip as if nervous and looked at Leather, who nodded at her. "Yes, if that is your wish." She tried unsuccessfully to look away from the shackles and ropes arranged on the ground.

The man followed her eyes then motioned them on. "Come over here behind this boulder then where we can have some_ privacy_." He shot a warning look at his companion, who looked down at the ground like a kicked dog. Leather gave him his most seductive smile and followed him. Mignon glanced back at the woman who still would not meet her eyes. Hoping Wolf and the others were close enough to hear where they were going, they followed.

The man led them to a clearing next to a steep gulch and wasted no time in grabbing Leather roughly by his hair and forcing him to face him. Leather wondered why the big, smelly ones _always_ went for the hair as he steeled himself for whatever followed. It wasn't lost on Mignon that the Luskan still held the hunting knife in his right hand. The Luskan nodded at Mignon. "This your woman?" Leather nodded back as much as he could with the way he was held. He forced him to his knees then released his hold on his hair. "She can watch while you show her what you would do for her."

"Whatever you want." Mignon sidled up to him with a practiced smile, and he paused unfastening his trewes to shove her to her knees too.

The Luskan woman looked in the direction they had gone and cursed. She was left all the work as usual, and more annoyed that her partner chased any tail he could get his hands on. But she also felt something akin to pity for what her partner would do to two people alone out in the middle of nowhere if he had enough time. She followed them after a few minutes and said angrily, "They've seen too much, Braden. Ragnar will have our hides before you get that ranger's if we're not ready when they get back!" She swiftly drew her dagger, planning to put the two of them out of their misery before they knew what happened. Whether they appreciated it or not, she _was_ showing them the only mercy she understood.

They all turned their heads to look at her. The man glowered at her and spit venomously, "Yeah, they have seen too much, but that doesn't mean you have to spoil my fun, you jealous bitch!"

He flicked his knife out at them faster than Mignon could scream. Leather had sensed it all going bad and loosed his flail as the man slashed at Mignon, who had begun chanting softly, summoning the energy for a spell, holding her hands fanned out before her. But he was faster. He caught her across her neck and disrupted her spell as the first flames fanned out at him. Yet as he jumped back to avoid the beginnings of the flames, his attack wasn't so deep as to kill her outright. She stumbled back, clutching the wound and trying to staunch the blood streaming out. Leather lashed him hard with the flail, but his angle was all wrong and the man turned the blade around and slashed him across his cheek to his jaw, just missing his eye. He screamed but managed to raise the flail for another blow.

The woman entered the fight making sure of her target, stabbing Leather in the back without emotion. A heartbeat later, an arrow flew past her and lodged in the man's right eye, followed immediately by another through his cheek. The woman spun in surprise looking in the direction the arrows had come from and caught Hiram's heavy cudgel full in the face. The force of the blow threw her head back with so much force that it snapped her neck, and she crumpled to the ground. Zeta appeared behind the man and thrust her own dirk into his kidney to finish him off.

Hiram stood staring dumbly at the woman he killed, his bloody cudgel still raised. Mignon had fainted. Zeta knelt beside the sorceress, took out one of their few healing potions, and poured it directly on her wound. She immediately pressed the flesh together, as Neeshka had instructed her. Wolf watched Zeta's progress as he checked the Luskans for life, but they were gone. Leather had slumped to the ground holding his hands to his face and moaning softly, more concerned with that wound than the excruciatingly painful and much more deadly wound in his back. Hiram still stared in disbelief at the woman he had killed.

Wolf frowned and slapped Hiram lightly on the back to snap him out of his shock. He still didn't know how at sixteen (and the youngest) he had become the leader. But he had already killed during the battle at Crossroads Keep. "It's awful, I know. Ain't like a deer or a skeleton. Let's hide these two before the others get back. Mignon is coming around, and Zeta can take care of Leather." Hiram blinked and nodded numbly then helped Wolf drag the bodies to the gulch where the Luskan had planned to dispose of Leather and Mignon. After they pushed the bodies over the edge, Hiram sat heavily on a rock to wait for the others, praying softly to Kelemvor to not judge the woman he killed too harshly.

Leather wasn't hurt as bad as Mignon had been, who required another of their healing potions before she fully came around. Leather called on Sharess's grace to heal himself, terrified the wound on his face would left an ugly scar. But he was struck by how selfish that was when his friend was nearly killed. He sat beside Mignon and begged her forgiveness for ignoring the signs of the danger they were in. She put her arms around him and burst into tears as he held her and murmured softly that it was all his fault.

Hardened by years of living on the street and having seen far worse horrors than this, Wolf and Zeta efficiently cleaned up the scene of the fight. Mignon was coherent enough to use a Clean cantrip after they finished to remove the blood from the ground and from her dress, though her voice was still hoarse. Wolf climbed nimbly up the tree to remove the rope that was intended to hang Bishop for skinning. While Hiram and Wolf stood guard, Zeta looted the dead Luskans' packs and tossed them in the gulch with their owners' bodies. She looted anything in the camp that could be sold or looked useful to make it look as if their companions had deserted when the other Luskans returned. She explained that this was entirely plausible judging from what she had overheard of their conversation.

Leather was still trembling in shock. All his cold youthful bravado had melted away like snow in the rain. Wolf scowled and knelt beside him and whispered, "Come on, snap out of it. Those others could be back any time, and we have to be ready."

He looked up at Wolf fearfully. "Are we ever going to be ready?"

Hiram ambled over and offered him a hand up. "Aye. We have to be, lad, especially if they come back with the Captain and her friends. 'Tis that or they rot in a Luskan dungeon. We're their only chance. Are you two still in?"

He and Mignon looked at each other. They were shaken, but the resolve of the others strengthened them. Mignon said softly, "Yes, but must be sure we are ready for any circumstance, no?"

At the Keep, Kana sent one of the guards to the kitchen for food and water, while she sent two other Greycloaks to requisition fast horses to find the two rescue parties and give them word of what had happened. She sat at her desk to write out the orders while Brother Ivarr cast a healing spell on Sand for injuries the mage was only vaguely conscious of. Khelgar served as spokesman aided by Neeshka, giving a brief account of the aftermath after assuring Sir Nevalle that the King of Shadows had been destroyed, but how the resulting implosion had weakened the structure, forcing them to run for their lives. He didn't mention Bishop's part yet, nor Qara's. Nevalle listened with restrained impatience until Khelgar finished his account of Dee's abduction, having him repeat parts and describe the creatures in detail as well as the portal they vanished through.

Khelgar was also growing impatient. "By Tyr's left buttock, that's all there is to tell! Enough words, we have to find her." Naloth echoed this with a growl, though he was concerned with reuniting with his own bonded.

"And where exactly do you expect us to start?" The knight threw up his arms and tried but failed to hide his skepticism. He turned to the sage. "Aldanon, have you ever heard of such creatures?"

The sage scoffed. "Of course, my boy. Indeed, there are any number of creatures that match the dwarf's description, and any number of people in any number of places who could have opened such a portal to abduct her. This is your metaphoric needle in a haystack. There was, however, a spell in that tome that I was just beginning to decipher. I believe it might allow one to trace magical emanations cast within a month to their source." He sighed in disappointment as he reached into the basket on his lap and discovered he had finished all the sticky buns.

Sand thanked Brother Ivarr, who patted his shoulder and moved on to Grobnar, who had also been too excited to realize how badly hurt he was. Madame Maisie and two of her girls ran over from the festhall as soon as she heard the news to see if they could help, and to reunite Sand with his beloved Jaral. Sand took his regular seat beside the Captain's chair where he advised her in the audience chamber with his familiar kneading his lap and purring loudly. The elf steepled his slender fingers under his chin. "We could search through the library for tendays and learn nothing of what sort of creatures abducted her, but we would be better off, in my opinion, using the resources of the Many-Starred Cloaks, along with that spell in the tome."

Nevalle sat on the Captain's other side in the seat usually occupied by his cousin Casavir, not conscious of the pained expression this brought to Khelgar and Sand's faces. "Our possession of the _Tome of Iltkazar_ is another issue. We risk trouble, even war with Ruathym once word reaches them that it is in Neverwinter, and I don't put it past Luskan to let them know we have it and suggest it was agents of Neverwinter who stole it from them in the first place. Thus we cannot allow it to be taken to Neverwinter. It must be returned to Ruathym as soon as possible."

"But I've only just scratched the surface of the knowledge contained within it." Aldanon pouted at the knight, who wasn't moved. He whined like a child begging for another cookie. "You don't understand! It was written by the Mage-king of Iltkazar! It contains the bulk of his knowledge! The Mage-King of Iltkazar!" Nevalle wasn't any more impressed by this tidbit either.

"But if there's a spell in it that will help us find her..." Neeshka interjected, pulling up a side chair without being asked to join in the discussion. "What I don't understand is how they even knew where to open a portal to find her in the first place. Could they have been tracing her somehow? Through the sword maybe? Remember she used to say all the time she felt like she was being watched, but we assumed it was Garius or Luskan scrying her...or she was being paranoid." She noted that neither Sand nor Khelgar met her eyes, and she sighed deeply. "We _all_ thought it, alright, but now we know better. Could the Luskans have taken her for revenge?"

Nevalle frowned. "Possible, but doubtful. I don't believe Luskan would be so bold. However, I'm growing concerned that that Wolf and Leather haven't returned from following that Luskan squad they saw in the woods. Perhaps they are involved." He was in fact very concerned at the absence of his beautiful young lover, more than he was willing to show. "Sand? You are familiar with the workings of the Hosttower."

Sand was drinking greedily from a flask of water that Madame Maisie had just brought him. He wiped his mouth on the sleeve of his robe and realized how filthy it was, as well as how filthy he was too. But for once he didn't care. "I agree. Our agents report there is still a Luskan bounty on her, though in my opinion, Luskan is more likely to act covertly. As for Neeshka's question, there are many ways, and there is the possibility that she was taken using some esoteric magic that the average mage would be unfamiliar with. It might be as simple as having sent her some object they could use as a focal point. Also, the _Tome of Iltkazar_ is but one of many ancient grimoires which have been discovered in the past few years. The Zhents are notorious for seeking such knowledge, and there have been rumors that the Lich-king of Thay has teams chasing legends and searching ruins all over the known world to increase Thay's power."

Grobnar sat on the dais next to Sand with a bowl of oatmeal brought to him by his young apprentice. "A focal point could be anything. It could be the sword, or it could be something as simple as an enchanted stone. Has the Captain received any gifts lately from someone outside of our circle of acquaintances?"

Kana pushed a thick strand of hair that had come lose from her normally immaculate bun aside. She had given up on any notion of sleep, now running on adrenaline and coffee, and thus replied more crossly than she intended. "All the time, at least several times a tenday. Everything that is sent to the Captain is logged, and a good deal of it is turned over to the armory or Neverwintan treasury, or saved as largess to give to visitors of note. This pointless speculation doesn't help us find her."

Grobnar ignored the irritation in her voice as he poured honey into his bowl. "Yes, but how many things has she received that she carries on her person? There is a difference."

Neeshka bounced up out of her chair, talking excitedly through a mouthful of apple. "Mmph somethin' like that locket? Remember that?" She finished the bite with a forced swallow and continued. "You know, the one that has the miniature of Cas and Cillian? She was sure that Cas had commissioned it, but he denied it, and no one knows who sent it. She thought it was sweet. But she thought its case was kinda ugly too, so she carries it in one of her dagger sleeves in her brigandine. Apart from that, I can't think of any gift she carries with her."

Kana rubbed her face tiredly. "Yes, I remember her insisting Casavir bought it and his insistence that he did not lie. She showed it to me. I thought it rather gaudy and didn't think the likeness to Casavir was very strong, but she was pleased with being sent a gift that was personal rather than yet another jewel-encrusted sword or Duskwood bow to be turned over to the armory. I can look through the log to see who sent it. I do recall it arrived by courier, and he waited because the Captain wanted to send payment to the artist." She stood and looked at a bookcase beside her desk where she kept her ledgers and found it in minutes. "Arro Djann was the artist who sent it, according to this. That still isn't anything but a name, but it's a start."

Nevalle now recalled her showing him the locket, which he agreed wasn't the best likeness of either Casavir or the bear. But the case was covered in delicate exotic gold filigree and studded with gems. "The locket itself had a foreign look to it. I could swear I've seen that kind of scrollwork somewhere. If I had to guess, I would say it was from somewhere in the far east. It is not uncommon for such a gift to be sent by someone looking to curry favor or an artist looking for future commissions. It wasn't an inexpensive gift, gaudy though it was. I would be interested if you do find any information on who sent the locket, though I fear this is a red herring."

Neeshka almost jumped out of her seat again. "I remember now! At her knighting, one of the ambassadors down below the gallery was wearing a brooch with the same kind of scrollwork. It caught my eye; it had a big ruby worth at least a hundred gold in the center!" She toyed with her tail in thought. "He had golden brown skin and black eyes. I remember...I could tell he was bald under the really big hat he was wearing with a peacock feather in it, if that means anything. The woman with him was bald too under a silk veil. I would recognize them if I saw them again. I never forget a mark." She shrugged sheepishly at the look Nevalle gave her.

Grobnar set his bowl of oatmeal aside. "Sounds like Thayans. In their culture only slaves and children keep their hair, but they wear elaborate hats and veils outside of Thay. But we have no proof the Thayan embassy sent it or that the locket is involved with the Captain's abduction. Why would they want her? I could see taking the sword, but why her?" But then he remembered the shard in her chest, and looking around, he could see the others did too.

Khelgar had been pacing the floor while they debated before taking a deep, calming breath and sitting on the floor before the dais and willing himself into a trance. He opened his eyes once he had grounded himself and startled everyone when he bellowed, "Enough jabberin'. What we need is a plan. Are we to head back through that portal now?"

Aldanon shook his head. "No chance of that, I'm afraid. The spell is about to end, and it cannot be cast again until tomorrow. Umm, I...forgot to mention that when you all left." Sand glared at him like he still wanted to strangle him, but the ancient sage had the good grace to look chagrined.

Khelgar took control of the discussion again. "Then do we go to Neverwinter and get more help, or we go back to help with the _recovery_ efforts? Or do we wait until tomorrow and use Aldanon's spell and get there faster?"

Nevalle grimaced at the thought of Casavir lying under the rubble. "Yes, we can't leave them out there. It would be better if someone who was at the Illefarn structure when it collapsed helped direct the search party."

"Then I'm goin' with the riders! I'll take 'Lanie's badger along with me too so he can let me know if he feels her near," Khelgar boomed, flipping to his feet with astonishing speed and grace and grabbing a flask of water and a handful of apples and breakfast rolls from the table for the trip. "Aldanon and his assistants will work on the tome here until such a time as it can be retrieved by its rightful owners. Sand, you should go to Neverwinter to talk to the mages, and Sir Nevalle, you should tell Lord Nasher what happened. Someone should talk to the High Justicar while yer there and see if he or the temple of Tyr can help too. He seemed to have grown fond of the Captain after the trial. Fiendling, you go with them and search out the thieves' guilds and see if you can learn anythin' there. And Grobby should spread the word with the Harpers. Don't give me that look, gnome, we all know yer a master Harper."

Everyone paused gaping in surprise that Khelgar was taking charge. But no one else had so far, and his orders made perfect sense. Kana was secretly relieved as she was a born administrator but definitely not a leader, and she was afraid that the myriad decisions that needed to be made would fall to her, or worse, that she would have to serve as lieutenant to Sir Nevalle, whom she despised.

Nevalle nodded curtly. "Very well then. But this Keep must have a captain. Therefore by the authority granted to me as chief of the Nine, I also appoint you, Khelgar Ironfist, as interim Captain until such time as Captain Farlong is found or Lord Nasher appoints another in her stead. You may assume command when you return from the Mere. Kana, send for one more horse. Sand, how soon will your party be ready to depart for Neverwinter?"

"I always have a spare travel bag and scroll case ready. I shall only require a few minutes while you see to our horses." He cast a Clean cantrip, though it did nothing for the tangles in his hair. He remedied that with another cantrip. Neeshka and Grobnar declared that they were ready too after Grobnar's apprentice brought Grobnar a mandolin to replace the one broken at the ruin.

Aldanon's thin voice broke in. "Why don't you the four of you Teleport? Here, you can use my ring. I've kept it around as a contingency in case I'm invited somewhere like this Keep against my will again." Aldanon fumbled deeply inside his robe until he produced the ring.

Sand tried not to think where the sage might have concealed it. He let Nevalle take the ring and went off to fetch his travel bag after reluctantly returning Jaral to the loving attention of the Sharessans at the festhall.

Kana saw Sir Nevalle's party off. She even got Khelgar to use his new authority to sign a few requisitions while the horse was being brought around. There was a commotion at the stables as they walked that way, and she and Khelgar strode over to see what was wrong. As they turned the corner, Thunder burst out of the stable door, three stable hands chasing after him, but to no avail. The pounding of his hooves as he ran out the open gate lived up to his name. The horse was simply too fast, and too determined to find his paladin as he sprinted through the open main gate.

Another stable hand brought horses for the Greycloak messengers and Khelgar, who shook his head at the offer of a leg up and sprang forward, his right foot lightly touching the stirrup of the tall folk's horse. He used the leverage to spring again into the saddle to the astonishment of the Greycloak messengers. Kana handed him Naloth, who had been placed in a travel basket. He settled the basket in front of him, grabbed the reins and looked down and whistled. "Sure is a long way down. Let's be off."

They came in view of the dust of Katriona's squad in no time. She was walking with the Ironfists, traveling at the pace of the wagons, pleased that the dwarves were having no problem with keeping up. She walked beside the Ironfist sergeant Khalia, who had led her own squad beside Katriona's cleaning up the remaining undead around Crossroad Keep. Their squads would arrive a full day and a half behind Bevil's. They engaged in girl-talk as they walked, strengthening their budding friendship.

Khalia shifted her axe from her left shoulder to her right and looked up at Katriona. "Must be hard on yer bein' seperated from yer husband, and yer bein' so new married."

Katriona smiled. "Things will settle down now...we haven't made up our minds what we're doing after..." She drifted off for a moment, trying not to think about what they might find in the Mere. "We've talked about going home to his village, but there'll be painful memories there for him. But I don't have anything to go back for in my home village either, now that my parents are gone. What's strange is we were both thinking how much we like being in the 'Cloaks, but we hadn't told one another until last night. So we might stay another year or so until we can train some new soldiers. What about you? I bet you can't wait to get back to your clanhold."

Khalia grunted. "Aye, we've much work to do when we return in restorin' it to its former glory. 'Tis been a good year tho' with the artifacts of our clan restored to us and the lower levels discovered. And Khelgar is restored to the Ironfists as well."

Katriona said softly, "We'll find them alive, I feel it."

Khalia nodded in agreement. "Aye, and then I'll be marryin' up with Khelgar next year."

Katriona grinned at her. "Congratulations. I didn't know you two were betrothed."

Khalia grinned back slyly. "We're not—yet. Haven't even courted proper. I only decided last tenday that he would do. S'pose I should tell him next, but I've made up my mind."

Katriona's well-honed warrior instinct allowed her to hear the sound of the horses' hooves behind them before they could see the horses coming. She shouted for her squad to halt. Khalia Ironfist strained to see down the road as young Kerrin Ironfist lay with his ear to the ground for a few minutes then announced, "Sounds like four horses, and they're bein' rode hard."

Katriona ordered her squad into a defensive formation along with the Ironfists. As the horses came within view, she recognized the ebony horse that had a significant lead on the others as Casavir's, but riderless. The frantic horse sped past them without stopping as two Greycloaks jumped aside, and indeed he might have run over anyone who got in his way. The horses with riders got near enough that Katriona could make out their gray cloaks. She shouted for her squad and the Ironfists to stand down.

As they drew near, one of the Ironfists spotted a dwarf with a familiar bald head on the lead horse and shouted, "Look there! 'Tis Khelgar, or I'm a kobold's uncle!"

Khalia Ironfist stretched up on her toes to see and gave a little squeaky gasp of excited recognition but quickly recovered her dour demeanor, not that the other dwarves missed it and gave each other knowing looks. Such was the way of courtship among the dwarves. She put her hands on her hips and scolded as he reined his horse, "Well met, Khelgar. We're on our way to rescue you and yer friends. Could ye not have come back a few hours ago and saved us the miles of walkin'?"

Khelgar flushed crimson at the good natured jibe, his face split by a huge grin as he met the eyes of the flame-haired lass. "Aye Khalia, but 'tis a fine mornin' for a walk and the sun's lightin' up yer silky braids like a torch." They both blushed crimson as a few of the Ironfists nudged one another and whispered too loudly about a royal wedding. He set the badger ahead of his pommel and flipped out of the saddle with a somersault to land right before her. Then Khelgar grew serious as he remembered his mission. "But I have brought grim news." One of the Greycloaks also dismounted to hand over Kana's missive while the other continued on to find Bevil's squad, blowing a signal horn every half a mile to get their attention since they were traveling overland.

After reading the missive from Kana, which concluded with a hastily scrawled note indicating that Khelgar had been appointed acting Captain (she read that part twice to be sure), they decided to continue on to the Mere, though the Greycloaks were disheartened that they were now on a mission to find the fallen rather than to look for survivors. Khelgar asked The Ironfists to go along, and they reached an loud, immediate consensus that the 'hoomuns' would be lost without their help in completing a successful excavation.

Casavir gasped as the air was knocked out of him and blinked at the sudden light as he passed through the rock and was dropped roughly on the ground. He tried to gulp in the fresh air, but breathing was painful and difficult. He couldn't see very clearly, but the woman who had rescued him was a stranger.

The mage waved her arms above her head to end her spell, glad to be solid again. She bent over the tall, dark haired man, still as death, yet still somehow clinging to life. "How delicious. This is the paladin. He's very handsome, isn't he? Such a waste of a tasty hunk of manflesh." She reached out her hand to stroke his cheek with her manicured fingertips. "I don't believe it will be long at all before Captain Farlong hands herself over in exchange for his life. Isn't that right, handsome?" She leaned down and gave Casavir a passionate kiss on the lips then laughed as he struggled weakly away from her. "Amazing. He's very much alive. Quickly, Ragnar, subdue him! Then we can question him about his lover's whereabouts."

Ragnar watched the wraiths summoned by the priest nervously and joined her beside Casavir. "He breathes, but raggedly. He's not gonna be any trouble to us. Are we sure these are all there is to be found?" He over at the still and bloody form in leather armor and the charred remains of what must have been some sort of spellcaster, female he guessed judging from the size of her corpse.

The thin, dark haired man in the gray robe listened closely to a wraith which hovered near him. "The place is full of corpses, but most have been here for some time. These two were the only living inside the building, and the cinder there is the only _fresh_ corpse. Freshly charred, that is. My pets are quite sure."

He knelt beside the ranger and shook his head at the extent of his injuries. Then he pressed his thumb into a wound on Bishop's shoulder, smiling tightly at the spasm of pain that provoked. "Blessed Lady of Pain, this one is alive too. I almost pity him with what Braden has planned for him."

Ragnar shrugged. "That's what he gets for not making sure all his squad was dead." Bishop, hovering on the edge of consciousness because of the pain, summoned all the strength he had to spit in the priest's face. The man laughed and covered Bishop's nose and mouth with his hand to cut off his breathing and watched him flail weakly before he let go lest he kill him.

The woman in leather returned from scouting, looking worried. "There's no one about at all, and no other entrances. I saw a wolf that acts like it's watching us though. Didn't this ranger travel with one?" No one answered her, but she was used to that by now. She looked around nervously, still looking for a way out, not satisfied that their employers would be content with these they found when they returned without the tome. She cursed herself silently for being a fool, too afraid to strike out alone into the Mere of Dead Men and make her escape, but Ragnar had insisted she leave her pack behind when she left to scout. She cursed herself again silently for a fool for not leaving without it anyway. She was armed and knew enough that she could survive until she reached the villages outside Waterdeep. "Won't be long before the other Neverwintans come back with help." She cursed herself for the nervous pitch to her voice.

Glyden stood smoothing her thin red silk gown and cast her a glance barely acknowledging her presence. "We should depart at once now we're certain there's nothing more to be found. The cinder is fine, but these big strapping men pose a problem—they are going to exceed the limits of my spell." While she spoke, Ragnar slipped up silently beside the woman in leather and stuck a dirk into her back and gave it a twist up. He followed up by snapping her neck. Glyden scowled at him as he shoved her body aside. "What did you do that for? We might yet need her before we reach Highcliff!"

He said self-importantly, "She was getting twitchy eyes, not that _you _noticed. But it's my job to notice. Besides, we shouldn't need her after this, and this helps with your weight problem."

The cleric of Loviathar cast a Hold Person spell then knelt beside Casavir and slapped his face sharply to test it. He asked quietly, "Where's your woman, hmm? Left you here to rot, has she?" He slapped him again for no particular reason.

Casavir groaned and whispered, "Tyr," which only prompted another, sharper slap.

Ragnar returned from dragging their former accomplice's body behind a bush. "He's a paladin. He'll take a lot of work to make him break."

The cleric of Loviathar said impassively, "Indeed, we can only hope. For now, we should subdue these two before the spell wears off. Might I suggest binding them together? They're supposed to despise each other."

Glyden had a sudden inspiration. "By all means, do it. And they'll fit into my magic bag, I think. That will solve the problem of weight, though they will likely suffocate before we reach the ship at Highcliff. Ah well, one can't have everything."

Ragnar gave her a look of profound respect as he took a length of rope out of his pack. "Brilliant idea, my sweet. It should be nothing for Amalter to raise them when we arrive in Luskan. What about Cinder?"

She adjusted the belt on her skimpy gown and watched as the men bound Casavir to Bishop face-to-face. Bishop struggled and managed to utter a filthy curse that made the men laugh. "She's not going into my bag to get it all sooty and greasy. Do we even _need_ her? He father didn't seem to care if he ever saw her again, and she has no other family. She's your typical spoiled wittle princess whose daddy gave her everything but _wuv_." She sneered with disgust as she mocked her. "Our intelligence says that she was utterly friendless at Crossroad Keep as well. My mother had spoken before her own untimely death of recruiting her instead of killing her according to her contract, but other wiser heads in the Hosttower felt she would be too difficult to control. They felt the girl was powerful but had no discipline."

Ragnar worked with the priest to maneuver Bishop and Casavir into the bag, which stretched when activated to accommodate their burden like a snake swallowing its prey. Within a few minutes they had accomplished their grim task, and he handed the bag back to Glyden, who put it back on her belt. He nodded at Qara's corpse. "Sure you don't want Cinder? I could wrap her bits up in my cloak." He went ahead and did so while she thought about it. But Glyden shook her head after a few minutes, so he carried the sorceress's corpse over to rest beside their unfortunate thief.

Glyden withdrew her scroll case from her bag, muttering about getting holy cooties in her bag from the paladin. She thumbed through until she found the scroll to open the portal to their camp.

They were unaware of a pair of amber eyes watching their every move. His broken leg had slowed him until he got his balance, but that wouldn't stop him from getting close to his bonded. He still had three legs. He crept closer and closer, ignoring the pain, and tried to make sense of his bonded and the tall one vanishing into the little bag. Now he watched, trying to decide if he could get close enough to grab that bag and run then rend it with his teeth until his bonded came back.

Then the female started moving her arms and making human noises, and the air around her shimmered until a dark entrance to a cave appeared, its edges shiny. He had passed through those before. He didn't like traveling through those. The lights and the colors and the roaring in his ears always made him feel sick after. But he wasn't going to let them take his bonded away. He watched them, creeping closer and ignoring the pain from his leg. As soon as they stepped through, he sprang, his teeth just catching the hem of the male wearing the long robe.


	47. A Sliver of Hope

Chapter 47 A Sliver of Hope

Usual disclaimers: Most of the characters in this story are owned by Bioware, Atari, Hasbro, and a whole lot of other people, other than a bear and paladin-lovin' ranger and an occasional NPC. Also, some of the dialog is paraphrased from MotB. Reviews, concrit, and advice always appreciated.

Okku's story might have ended that day if he had been any other creature while in life but a bear, as might have Dee's. Perhaps Meilikki had foreseen this trial two years before when she first chose the form of the bonded for her young ranger; perhaps it was only a lucky coincidence. Dee's new companions (those who were conscious) looked on in horror and disgust as something unclean, _unholy_, which manifested itself as a writhing mass of tentacles, flew out of her and towards the bear god to devour his spirit essence.

As the inky tentacles began to envelop him and bear god roared in pain and terror, Dee screamed, "NO! You will not have him!" She fought the ravening hunger within her with every fiber of her being. And once chastised, the hunger slunk away to sulk inside her until it could reemerge later when she was too weak to resist. She fell backwards and collapsed on the ground from the exertion as much as from her many wounds. She was weak, yet she felt stronger than she had in hours. And the Hunger felt sated.

It took him a minute to realize what had happened. Okku stood shakily and limped over to her, stood above her and stared into her eyes. "Little one...you fought the hunger and spared me."

She struggled to sit up with a groan and peered at the bear through a red haze. She pushed her spectacles up. "Blessed Meilikki, I did."

The enormous, colorful bear walked around her, sniffing her and drawing in her scent deeply. He lowered his head and licked her neck where the blood still flowed from his bite, though her ring was healing that and her other wounds. He stepped back and met her eyes. "_Ranger _you are, though you've strayed far from the wooded trails...You fought it back! I remember long ago...before my long sleep, another spirit eater spared me. I tried to help him end his curse, but I must have failed him if you are here. For sparing me, I pledge to help you overcome this curse. I swear will not fail you as I did him."

Dee croaked, "Curse?" She really didn't have to ask though. It was painfully obvious now that this was a curse. "How..." She struggled to get up again and frowned as she tried to think, filled with questions but unable to think clearly enough to put them into words.

Kaelyn raised her hands to the sky and sang a lilting benediction to Ilmater, which called down a powerful spell that rolled around the clearing, healing all her companions. Gann got to his feet, but Safiya, Kaji, and Cillian were still lying on the ground and just beginning to stir. Gann watched Dee and Okku talking for a moment, a look of puzzlement on his face as he saw the spirit energy of Kaelyn's spell envelop the bear god as well, and then he shrugged and turned to help her tend to their other companions.

The Rashemi on the wall staring at the scene below were shocked into silence. Then one frightened voice cried out, "Did you see that? What _was_ that thing?" This voice was joined by a chorus repeating the same question. Finally, a venerable crone who had been carried up to the wall on a chair by her grandsons so she might watch the battle muttered, "That is a spirit-eater! The curse returns to Mulsantir!" Some of the Rashemi echoed her and began making gestures to ward off evil. Others shrugged and spoke with their friends and neighbors as they left the wall and returned to their homes and their work, about how unfortunate it was that one so young was afflicted with such a terrible curse.

Katya stared at the scene unfolding below then turned to Sheva. "That is the spirit-eater curse? My great-grandmother spoke of this curse once."

Kazimika added, her hysteria building anew, "She must be a _very_ evil person indeed to be afflicted with such a curse. We should cast her off the walls of the city and watch as her bones shatter on the rocks below so that she does not taint Mulsantir with her evil!"

Sheva Whitefeather clicked her tongue as if scolding a dog and gestured at the scene below. "We will do nothing of the sort. Where are your eyes? Did you not see that she has spared the bear god and rebuked the hunger?" The younger witches exchanged looks, but neither was willing to openly question their superior. As they walked down the stairs, Sheva stopped and gestured to a berserker. "Are the merchants awaiting us?"

He bowed his head to her. "Yes, Mother Whitefeather. They are waiting in the stall of Azim of Calimshan."

She nodded crisply at him and continued on. As they reached the edge of the market, Kazimika's curiosity got the better of her. "Why are we speaking with the merchants, Sheva? Do you think they might have been contaminated by the cursed one?"

Sheva frowned and shook her head. This apprentice was sorely trying her patience today. "I simply wish to learn what manner of woman the cursed one is before I decide whether to help her, and these merchants spent some time with her when she first arrived. Remember Magda only saw her for a moment before she fled the theater and came to tell us about the Thayan attack."

They walked past several berserkers who where stationed around Azim's stall to keep the curious away. A berserker with a ridiculously long curved black mustache lifted the tapestry which served as a door so they could enter.

Azim, his family, and Mother Feodorra from a neighboring stall were seated on low benches strewn with cushions. They startled when the curtain lifted and blinked at the sudden light. Another bench across from them was empty, and Azim smiled nervously as he bade the witches enter and gestured for them to sit. Mavish stood and offered them tea and honey cakes, which Sheva declined with a sharp shake of her head.

"How may we be of service? Are you seeking a special item?" But Azim knew this concerned the pale-haired northwoman who had gone out to fight the bear god's forces. They hadn't joined the throng on the wall, even though there had been no customers in the market, because they couldn't bear watching her die. Word spread like wildfire throughout the market that she had defeated Okku, but also that she was the bearer of a terrible curse. Almost immediately after they heard the news, the berserker guards arrived and ordered that they shut down their stall and wait inside for the witches, and a few minutes later Mother Feodora was hustled in to join them.

The witches declined the bench offered to them. Sheva studied them for few minutes before she began. "Tell us about the blond foreigner—we have heard that she visited your shop yesterday. I want to know everything she told you about her activities here in Rashemen."

Azim gave them his friendliest toothy smile, which usually melted the resolve of the most recalcitrant shoppers. But to his dismay, these women were unmoved. "She and the woman with her had found some Imaskari artifacts in a ruin which they desired to trade for supplies. They paid fairly for everything they requested and didn't even haggle over the prices, so I naturally lowered my prices, since they were foreigners and ignorant of the ways of the market. I don't know what more you wish to know." Azim wrung his hands helplessly.

His wife Mavish had arranged her robes so that her swollen belly was obvious, and she stood and poured tea for herself, her husband, and Mother Feodorra and bade her second-oldest daughter serve, determined to be civilized even if these witches were not. "The woman told us she thought at first she must have fallen through an ancient portal in a ruin during a battle, and had lost everything—even her boot. She was very sad, and her story was so strange that we talked later about whether she was touched by madness, did we not, Mother Feodorra?" She gave the witches a defiant look, confident that they had done nothing wrong. "She seemed very confused too. She made odd gestures and spoke of finding Gnomish spirits—wondersneven I think she called them. Her mage friend explained that she had taken a blow to the head during the battle that had addled her brains."

Mother Feodorra accepted the tea, her hands shaking so badly that some of it spilled out of the cup. "Yes _Wendersnaven_ I think it was, and then the poor woman began sobbing when I offered her some women's intimates that she said her husband would love. She was quite beside herself with worry about him, isn't that right, Mavish?"

Mavish nodded vigorously as she took a swallow of her tea. "Her husband is _very_ handsome—she showed us a locket bearing his portrait. And he is a paladin of the northern god Tyr. She said they were newlyweds, married within the tenday. She told us she and her companion had determined she had been abducted and brought to Rashemen, but she didn't know by whom or when. Or why. She only knew she woke up in the bear god's barrow within the Imaskari ruin." The witches said nothing, though the plump one glared at them as if she didn't believe a word.

Azim added, "Yes, that is correct, and then she stopped by this morning asking, indeed begging, that I find someone to get a letter to her husband in the event that she died fighting the bear god. She left generous payment with me for the courier's trouble. As I said, she hails from the far north of the Sword Coast. She knew it would take a very long time for it to reach her homeland, but she wanted her husband to know what happened to her."

Sheva finally spoke. "Is that so? Let me see this letter."

Azim glanced at his wife nervously but replied firmly, "Please understand, I swore to see it sent to her home, and my word is my bond, even for such eminent persons as yourselves. I cannot give it to you. As you can see, my wife is great with child, but we will leave Mulsantir today if need be and risk the open road rather than betray my vow."

Mavish put her hand on her swollen belly and waddled up beside her husband. She hoped that these barbarians had enough honor to respect that. "Indeed. We were talking when your guards arrived of sending our oldest son in the caravan with the carpet monger as far west as the sea, where he could find passage on a ship to take him north to deliver it."

Sheva waved her hand dismissively. "I do not wish you to give me the letter. I only wish to _see_ it."

Azim reluctantly handed it to her. "It is addressed to the High Justicar at the temple of Tyr in the city of Neverwinter. This is a fabled city of artisans in the far north of the Sword Coast, called _The City of Skilled Hands _and famous for its water clocks. As my wife said, her husband is a paladin of Tyr, and this man would see that it was delivered to him."

Sheva looked at the address on the letter to confirm what he had said then handed it back. "Thank you for your cooperation." She turned to her fellow witches and nodded sharply. "Come, let us return to the shrine. I'm sure the foreigner will want to speak with us shortly."

Healed of his wounds, Cillian ambled up beside Dee, who was still listening intently to Okku as he explained what he knew of the nature of her curse and questioning him when she could. Her curious companions had also gathered beside her to listen. Safiya had never heard of this curse; nevertheless, it was eerily familiar, though for the life of her she didn't know why.

Dee didn't find any more answers to her questions, only more questions. She put her arm around Cillian, burying her face in his rough golden fur to hide her tears. After a few minutes she forced herself to calm down. "I s'pose there's no point in my goin' on about how unfair this is or asking the gods why. I need to learn all I can about it so I can get rid of it. I beat the King of Shadows, and gods willing, I can beat this too. I need information. You said there have been other spirit eaters. How many?"

Okku chuffed. "Very many, going back for ages."

"And no one has ever overcome it?," she asked incredulously. "No priest can remove it?"

Okku looked down at the ground. "It was created by the dead god Myrkul, and even dead, the other gods cannot undo his work. Nor have any of the afflicted overcome it that I know of. It cannot be passed on to another while its host lives. The mage I tried to help...my memories are still sleeping, but I think we ultimately decided to contain it within a binding circle in my barrow since we could not find a way to end it. There is something else you should know, little one. Eventually, within a few months to a year, the presence will consume you until you are but an empty husk. It will devour you like a cancer. And if you are not careful, you can devour the souls of the living as well as the spirits of the dead to sate the hunger. Yet I still have hope that this curse can be lifted."

"Then I better get moving," Dee said grimly. At least she had one answer. She had been taken to that barrow because the curse was bound by the runes there. She voiced her questions to her new companions. Had she wronged someone that badly that they would go through all this trouble to get revenge? Was it the Hosttower? Or was Thay involved? Was she being used as a new weapon to be unleashed on the Rashemi as part of their endless war? And why her? And why take the Sword of Gith from her unless whoever took it planned to reforge it as well?

Safiya for her part cursed silently that her mother and her mysterious twin were no longer alive to explain why they had afflicted this stranger with this curse. But she was determined to do what she could to help, and said so again. "We might find answers at the theater if the witches will let us speak to Magda. Normally I would also suggest coming with me to the Academy, but with Mother gone, it will likely be in a state of total anarchy for some time until a firm hand brings it back under control." She shook her head at the state of them all. "I begin to understand why your Sand of Neverwinter always had several _Clean_ cantrips memorized." She cast a few herself. "There, now we're not so frightful."

Gann had been listening to the telethors in the fields around them, who spoke the truth of what Okku was telling them. "We should go to the witches. Sheva Whitefeather may have additional knowledge of this curse."

Dee leaned on Cillian and struggled to her feet. "Yeah, let's go to the witches. Mayhap now they'll let me talk to Magda. There was that shaman at the lodge too, the one with the leopards who was starin' into the fire."

Kaelyn said softly, "Don't forget that book in the Death God's vault that we both seek. We should try to question the spirits of the scribes which remain there as well. I hesitated to do so alone because there were some very powerful undead there, but together..."

Dee smiled wryly at her as it occurred to her that fate was leading her to accept Brother Merring's advice to become a crypt ranger, whether she wanted to or not. She knew more about the various forms of undead than she ever cared to know. "I haven't forgotten my promise to you, but I'm not up to going today unless we can find a priest to heal our wounds. You saw those three death knights in that chamber we avoided? They only exist to guard someone...or something. I'd be guessin' they have that key we need. We can rest tonight and return to shadow Mulsantir just before dawn. For now, after I talk to the witches and Magda, I plan to go to that lodge and talk to the shaman then get stinkin' drunk on the local ale."

Kaelyn frowned and admonished, "Surely that will not help your situation."

Dee said prosaically, "Mayhap not, but sometimes it must be done."

The few bolder or more foolish gawkers who had been watching outside quickly stepped aside as they entered the gates. Few of the guards would meet Dee's eyes, and many of the citizens they passed as they walked through the town either gave her a wide berth, or they made mocking comments. A few spit at her. A few gave her pitying looks though, as if she was on her way to the gallows. One man who was chopping wood said cheerfully as he paused and patted his ax, "You are a spirit-eater, but I think your skull would split as easily anyone else's."

Dee smiled sweetly at him. "Yes, and so would yours."

He laughed heartily. "A woman after my own heart, and you are tall and strong. We could make many strong sons, if you weren't cursed. Pity."

Safiya offered to retrieve Dee's letter from Azim before he sent it on, not wanting to confront the witches at their shrine. "We can meet up at the theater, or outside it if the actors haven't returned." She gave Dee a friendly hug, though even as she did it, it occurred to her she wasn't normally inclined to be so affectionate. But there was something about her new friend that encouraged her affection. "I think it might be a good idea for you to rewrite it tonight with the latest news and send it on with the merchants anyway."

At the shrine, Sheva Whitefeather told Dee what she knew of the curse, but couldn't give her any more information, or hope, than Okku had. To her knowledge the curse was very old but had been dormant for years. "One of our legends tells of an ancient tree spirit in the Ashenwood, _The Woodman,_ who survived an encounter with a spirit eater many, many years ago. Such an ancient being might be able to shed more light on the curse. It's nearly a tenday's journey on foot. But since you spared great Okku, I will give you permission to use one of our barges to travel across the lake to him in only a few day's time. I shall give you a letter of introduction for the witches in charge of our outpost there and send word to the dock master along with a password for you to use." She smiled slightly at Dee, but not unkindly.

Dee bowed her head to her. "Thank you, Sheva. I appreciate any aid you can give me."

The youngest witch listened quietly, while the plump witch interrupted her with further verbal attacks, but refusing to confront her directly. "Sheva, I still say she must have done _something_ to deserve this curse! In the past people such as her would have been thrown from the cliffs or the walls." Dee dug her nails into her palms and ignored her and turned her attention back to Sheva.

However, Okku narrowed his small golden eyes at Kazimika and rebuked her in the same tone in which he had rebuked the telethor badger that dared to growl at _him _outside the _Ice Troll Lodge_. "I _know_ you, witch. I know the secret desires that lurked in your heart before you became a witch, and still lurk there now."

The witch stared gaping at him, rendered speechless for a minute, then scowled and stalked off muttering, "You will all pay for aligning yourselves with the cursed one." Dee thought wryly that all that was missing was for her to shake her fist at them as she departed.

Safiya was pacing as she waited for them outside the theater and hurried up to them as they approached. "I have your letter, though Azim and Mavish agree you should still send it on. The actors have returned, but I thought it would be better if we all go in together." Dee took the letter back and put it in her belt pouch.

A dark-eyed little girl was squatting in the dust idly drawing with a stick. She stood and intercepted them as they neared the steps leading to the theater. "Excuse me, lady?"

Dee looked around warily. There were too many people who would stoop to using a child as a distraction before an attack. "Can I help you, little girl?" She kept a hand casually on her sword as Okku drew closer and sniffed.

"My grandfather is the leader of the hill tribe, and he sent me to give you a message. He has knowledge of your gift that the witches wish to keep from you."

Dee laughed bitterly. "I hardly think of it as a _gift_. What kind of knowledge?"

The girl drew back from Okku and from Gann, who were studying her intently. She looked around nervously, and not because of Gann and Okku's scrutiny. Dee could see something feral in the girl's eyes, but she couldn't say what it was other that it was disturbing. The little girl took another step back. "I must leave before the witches discover me. I can only tell you my grandfather sent me here to tell you he can help you, if you journey to our tribal lands near the Wells of Larue. It is but a short journey from Mulsantir. I must go now." She turned and sprinted off.

Cillian chuffed, and Okku told them, "The child is some sort of shapeshifter wearing a human skin. I have encountered her kind before, but my memory fails me as to where." Cillian agreed that the child smelled 'off.'

Dee snorted. "Yeah...my _gift._ Sounds like someone wants to teach me to use it so he can use me. And I'm starting to get really tired of being a tool." She frowned and threw her hands up. "Or am I just bein' paranoid?"

Gann pushed his long blue-gray hair out of his face. "No, I agree with you, fair leader. I was about to tell you it sounds like she is leading you into an ambush. On the other hand, it is a short journey, and her grandfather might know something useful."

Dee frowned as she thought about it. "This is my life we're talkin' about. I can't afford to turn down help, but I agree with you. The whole offer smells bad. We'll go there as a last resort."

Dee repeated to Safiya what she had learned at the shrine as they walked up the steps to the theater, where they were interrupted by Magda, an elegantly dressed dark haired dwarf, who threw open the door to welcome them. Her actors surrounded them as soon as they entered with warm embraces and profuse thanks for their timely rescue. After they had exchanged introductions, Magda declared, "I want you to know you all can share our home while you are here as well. If need be, I'll turn some of this lot out of their beds. If not for you, we might all be as dead as our dear Lienna."

One of the actors muttered to another, "Notice that our dear Magda didn't offer her own bed."

They listened as the actors reminisced about Lienna, but as much as the actors clearly loved her, none of them, not even Magda, knew her very well. "She was sweet, but there was a deep sadness in her as if she had lost her one true love, especially when we put on a tragic production about doomed love. She would watch, but she would take to her room sometimes for days afterwards. We got the impression she had lost someone very dear to her and had never recovered from the loss. And a few times it seemed that she was hearing voices. She also would forget to brush her hair at times unless I mentioned it."

It occurred to Safiya that Lienna forgetting to brush her hair would be perfectly natural if she was Thayan and had lived much of her life without hair, but she kept this to herself.

Magda told them how she had walked in on Lienna and the woman in red several times over the years, talking and laughing like old friends long parted. She reached into her ample bosom and withdrew a key that Lienna had entrusted to her when the Red Wizards attacked. "She described you and said you would be coming and that you might be very angry, but I should not be afraid. It opens the door inside her casting chamber." They had seen the door near Lienna's casting chamber, but Kaji had been unable to pick the lock. "I don't know what lies beyond that door, but I just caught sight of Lienna and the woman in red going through it nearly a year ago, and they did not emerge for a tenday. I also suspect that is how the woman in red arrived for her visits, because she certainly didn't use the theater door."

She screwed up her face in concentration as she tried to think of more information she could give Dee. " I never spoke with that woman, but I never liked the look of her or the way she looked at me. Bald as a newborn babe too. The last time I saw her was briefly a few days ago while I was backstage sorting through costumes. And then later that very same evening our lady in white came running out of her room wild-eyed, and she was covered with blood!"

One of the actors, Lothario, continued, "We rushed to her side. We thought at first that something had happened to her, but we discovered it was not her blood. She had this strange look of triumph on her face, and she began laughing hysterically. It was very unnerving."

Dee forced down the bile again. Her head was spinning and the floor was threatening to fall out from under her. Cillian sensed her disturbance, gave her a worried look and nuzzled her, and she curled her fingers in his fur to ground herself. She replied in a strangled voice, "My blood...Lienna and her sister cut a silver shard from a Githyanki blade out of my chest on a table back there in the shadow side of her rooms."

Kaelyn exclaimed, "You had a piece of Akachi's sword inside your chest? No wonder you have been led here!"

The actors looked at one another in disbelief. One of them scoffed, "Our Lienna, a mad vivisectionist? I cannot believe it!"

Dee looked at him coolly and opened her jerkin, gambeson, and the neckline of her shirt, exposing the fresh angry red scar three times as big as the one she grew up with. Morbid curiosity led them to all gather around to look. "Yeah? Mayhap you didn't know your Lienna as well as you thought. I'll show you. But first I really need that drink." One of the actors, an effeminate blond who was known as Sweet William, quickly fetched Dee a goblet of spicy Berduskan brandy, which she drained at once and held out for him to refill before she led them through Lienna's room and into the portal to show them the table.

Okku sniffed the blood on the table and on the floor. "This is indeed your blood, little one." He followed a trail of blood stains on the floor as the actors retreated to the safety of the material world, shaken by their discovery, suddenly remembering they were supposed to be anywhere but in this chamber of horrors.

Okku followed the scent of blood through the rooms right up to the mysterious door. They hadn't noticed the trail earlier in the semi-darkness that even magelight couldn't dispel. Dee nodded at her companions to get ready as she put the key in the lock and turned it then threw the door open.

A short hallway led to a room in which they found four dark portals and an inactive clay golem. Magic hung thick in the room. Even Gann's curiosity was aroused by the magical energies. Kaelyn examined the golem closely. "Odd that I didn't sense this place before in my travels through the shadows. This room exists in a nexus, a place between the planes. It took very powerful magic to find it, to create this, and to conceal it. What's strangest of all is that this golem seems to control the portals, though it is dormant now."

Safiya examined the portals. "Powerful, and very expensive magic. And this wasn't done overnight. This was a work of many years, perhaps generations." She walked over to Kaelyn standing in front of the golem. "Its core is burned out. I could revive it in time...but I believe Dee could use a spirit essence or channel some of her own spirit inside it to revive it." She didn't know how she knew, but she did.

And Dee nodded. As soon as Safiya said the words, she could see in her mind how she could take the spirit essence and shape it much like she took a piece of metal and shaped it to her will on the anvil. This was just a different kind of anvil. "Yes, I could." At least her curse had some benefits.

Under Safiya's direction she reached inside the crumbling clay of the golem elbow deep until she found the recess which held the core. Safiya handed her a pair of forceps holding the shimmering spirit essence, and Dee stuck it inside the golem then took it and the core in her bare hands and concentrated merging them. After a moment, she withdrew her arms and stood back to watch.

The golem straightened and turned its head from side to side as it became active. In a voice dry as the ancient sands it hissed, "What is your bidding, Mistress?"

Safiya held her staff out towards it. "Where do these portals lead, golem?"

It turned its massive head to hear her better, clay crumbling as it did. "Yes...mistress. The purpose of the portals is thus. The first, incoming. The second, containment. The third, disposal. The fourth, outgoing. Your servants have been awaiting you in the first portal."

Safiya whispered to the others, "It's essentially blind because it doesn't need eyes to perform its duties, only ears to hear commands. It's a good thing I must sound like my aunt, or perhaps my mother. Perhaps both of them."

Gann was examining the third portal. He quipped, "Disposal. I sense that this one leads to the elemental plane of fire. Convenient way of disposing of one's enemies."

Dee stood before the first portal and drew her swords. "I'd like to talk to these servants."

Everyone took up defensive positions as Safiya commanded, "Golem, open the first portal."

The golem gestured towards it, and a second later, it flared to life. "It is done."

Four nightmarish creatures that looked like shadowy gargoyles tumbled out, and Dee raised her swords in an attack position. The first exclaimed in a fearful growl, "_She_ is here, and that means our mistress is gone. We are lost, brothers."

Dee said softly, though her voice trembled, "Wait. I seek only information, not your lives. I know what it's like to be a tool. Tell me everything you know about my abduction and about Lienna and her sister's plans for me, and I swear you can go free." She sheathed her swords as a gesture of good faith and dropped to her haunches to listen, with Cillian sitting beside her.

She bit her knuckle to stop herself from shouting, from screaming as the leader of the pack told her how they had been commanded to stalk her from the shadows, tracking her through the reformed sword. He was indignant though, insisting that they had saved her, and if they had not snatched her away as the ruin collapsed she would have shared her companions' fate. "Then my companions are..." She choked trying to say the word.

The second of the four answered, "Dead? By now they must be."

The first, fearing that she would go back on their bargain, quickly said, "No, only two were dead, perhaps three. The dwarf gave chase as we picked you up." He described Khelgar's attempted rescue, which he thwarted when he attacked him to give his brothers time to spirit her away. "And then the fearsome one, the warlock, followed us into the shadow plane but was caught by the Red Lady. I doubt he survived their encounter."

"Only two were dead?" She couldn't bear to ask which two, but she forced herself to speak her fears. "The paladin Casavir?"

The second creature, clearly not as cunning as their leader, answered, "We did not see the paladin among the living."

Their leader hissed angrily at him, "Nor did we see him among the dead." As far as they knew, only Qara and possibly Zhjaeve and Bishop were among the dead.

She had sworn she wouldn't say it again, but she couldn't help herself. "Why me? Why inflict this curse upon me if all they wanted was my sword?"

"I cannot tell you that, but I can tell you who can. Lienna and her red sister traveled to the east, along the shore of Lake Mulsantir to the sunken city. They went to the lair of the nine hags, the Sleeping Coven. They heard the hags' counsel and returned with a plan, and we were sent to shadow you through your sword."

The leader stepped closer and hissed, "There is nothing more we can tell you. Our mistresses told us only what we needed to know. Keep your part of the bargain."

Dee nodded, tears streaming down her cheeks, and whispered, "Go." The creatures melted into the shadows before she changed her mind.

Dee really needed that drink now. She let herself cry for those who were gone for sure then washed her face and went back to the _Ice Troll Lodge_ accompanied by Gann, Okku, and Cillian. Safiya stayed because she wanted to explore Lienna's casting chamber further, and Kaelyn requested a quiet room where she could meditate and seek out Ilmater's favor before they returned to Myrkul's vault.

Dee walked along in stony silence not caring about the opinions of the Rashemi they passed or their reactions to her. The creature's words echoed through her mind—not among the living, but not among the dead either. At least this gave her a sliver of hope that Cas was alive and was looking for her. She shook off the words of the second creature. Her friends might be dead by now, but they were more resourceful than the average adventurer or sell-sword. Neeshka surely got out, and she was equally sure Sand had spells that wouldn't have served in battle but would be useful for rescuing himself and the others. Elanee as well, with her shapeshifting abilities could assume any number of forms that would allow her to escape their rocky tomb. Khelgar was alive and knew what had happened to her. Surely by now they had arrived back at the Keep. Surely by now they were looking for her. Not that they would know where to look.

The berserkers greeted them heartily and thrust a mug of the thick, black local ale into Dee's hands. She listened to several retellings of the battle before she finished the mug, which was immediately refilled. She wasn't up to more than an occasional grunt or nod in response, but Okku was more than happy to tell his own version of the battle. She drank the second mug then excused herself and approached Nak'kai, the elderly shaman, who stood staring into the fire, his leopard companions on either side of him. He was deep in thought, so Dee waited for him to acknowledge her, standing on the other side of the fireplace with Okku and Cillian on either side of her and Gann standing beside Okku in the center of them all.

Finally Nak'Kai spoke, though he never took his eyes away from the fire. "So, Ganayev-of-Dreams. This one has little wisdom if she allows you to travel with her."

Gann laughed deeply. "Perhaps not, but we share a common dream for the moment, old one. The spirits have told you of Deidre here. She seeks your knowledge of the spirit-eater curse."

Nak'kai told her what he knew. The curse was at least a thousand years old, but he had no idea of how it might be ended. He knew it came about after one of Myrkul's priests, Akachi, led a crusade against his god in order to free his lover's soul from the _Wall of the Faithless_. "It is said he succeeded in freeing her, but he suffered Mykul's wrath and took her place. His was a foolish quest. Rebellion against the gods can only lead to failure."

Dee nodded in agreement, but Gann snorted and turned to the elderly shaman. "You don't believe in these so-called gods, Nak'kai?"

He answered without taking his eyes away from the fire. "I do, spawn of hags. They are more powerful versions of the nature spirits we worship. But you are young and foolish. You will learn in time, if you can grow out of your youthful habit of haunting the dreams of the young women of Rashemen."

He had no further advice other than to agree that they should try to find the Woodman as well as journey to the _Coveya Kurg'annis_ to ask the slumbering coven what they knew about how the pieces fit together. "However, your journey may be in vain as the hags do not grant just anyone an audience."

Dee finished her ale and thanked the shaman and took her leave of the berserkers, who thought it was too bad the northern woman was ready for bed after only two ales. But that was enough to help her sleep tonight. She didn't have the answers to the mystery, but she had a start.


	48. Leaving No Stone Unturned

Chapter 48 Leaving No Stone Unturned

Usual Disclaimers: Most of the characters in this story are owned by Bioware, Atari, Hasbro, and a whole lot of other people, other than a bear and paladin-lovin' ranger and an occasional NPC. Lots of NPCs in this chapter. Reviews, questions, and concrit always appreciated.

Neverwinter:

Sand glided swiftly across the Dolphin Bridge. The city was still nearly deserted except for Lord Nasher and his highest level advisors, much of the Greycloak Militia, a skeleton force of the Watch who hadn't gone along to police the city's evacuees in Port Llast and beyond, and those whom Lord Nasher had euphemistically referred to as "The dregs of the Docks," people too destitute and downtrodden to care about their impending doom. Bands of thugs had strolled through the city streets with impunity, but the militia and the Watch were beginning to engage them to restore order. Rather than have to explain himself at the checkpoints and guard posts or have to explain why he blasted a pack of thugs into a pile of smoking cinders, he had cast _Invisibility _and _Silence_ spells on himself before he left _Castle Never_.

He reached his shop and looked around to assure himself that he was alone and that his wards had not been tampered with. Glancing at Duncan's boarded-up tavern across the street, he was overcome with feelings of nostalgia remembering the many sharply barbed verbal duels he had held with Duncan over the past few years. Duncan no doubt was already pressing the authorities in Port Llast to allow him to return and see to his business as word of the King of Shadows' defeat must have reached them by now. Anyone with a legitimate trade or business would be the first allowed to return to help restore a sense of normality to the city, and to get coin flowing into the city's coffers again. At the same time, Sand was relieved that he hadn't yet returned, and so he was spared delivering the news to Duncan about his foster niece.

He wouldn't put it past Duncan to have holed up in his cellar or attic rather than leave his beloved tavern. It was tempting to go see, but he had things to do. He sighed softly and deactivated the wards on his door and walked in, quickly closing the door behind him before its opening was noticed. Nothing was amiss in the shop, but he inspected it twice to be certain and then examined the golem standing in the corner. He had deactivated the clay golem that he had purchased to tend the shop after the word for the evacuation was given, but if anyone had managed to get in past his wards, it would have reactivated and dealt with him or her severely.

He barred the door then entered his small apartment in the back, concealed behind his work area. He moved aside a screen and twisted the valves that controlled the flow of hot and cold water into an elegant deep marble tub, adjusting them to his liking. He placed the golden headband that he had enchanted on the bedside table, remembering wistfully the beljuril the dear girl had traded him nearly two years ago that he had used to enchant it. He removed his boots and socks and stripped off his robe and his small clothes, thankful that the magic containing the fire elementals in the city reservoir still held.

The water was instantly invigorating as he stepped into the tub, and he couldn't resist a deep groan as he sat then slid in up to his neck. There was even some of his favorite sandalwood soap left. He had been out of it for tendays at the Keep. He held it to his nose and inhaled its scent deeply before he soaped himself off. He washed his long silky black hair and ducked his head under the water to rinse it, then sat back in the tub and closed his eyes.

But he reminded himself he had little time for such self-indulgence. It was nearly time for his appointment at the the Tyrran temple. He reluctantly stepped out and toweled off his lithe body and pulled an iridescent pigeon gray robe out of his bag. He couldn't recall where they had found it in their travels, but it had become part of his share of the spoils. It was as highly enchanted as the emerald robe he had worn to face the King of Shadows, but he preferred that one as he had crafted himself. But the gray would do for now. It didn't matter that he had cast a cantrip to clean his other robe. It still didn't _feel _clean, and he wondered if it ever would again. He dressed, looked himself over in the mirror and nodded in satisfaction then recast his concealment spells and stepped outside and recast the wards securing his shop.

No one was around to notice his leaving, but he waited across the street for a few minutes anyway. He was to join the others at the _Moonstone Mask_ later. Grobnar was already there speaking with Ophala so she could spread the word of the abduction of one of their own through her Harper contacts. Neeshka was seeking out her own contacts in the various thieves' guilds. Sand was to head to the temple of Tyr to seek an audience with the High Justicar. He knew from Neeshka's snooping that Dee believed he might be her birth father, but they weren't sure whether that was something he would publicly acknowledge, or if it would make him more or less inclined to help.

Nevalle was to join them at the Mask to tell them what Lord Nasher had decided to do. But during the brief time he allowed them for an audience when they arrived, he reluctantly stated that the city had precious few resources to spare to search for very long for one missing knight, even one who had helped save the city. Sand mused that if Nevalle could get him alone for ten minutes, however, he might ease his lord's tension enough to make him more amenable.

While Sand headed to his shop, Neeshka also took advantage of her _Ring of Invisibility_ and made her way through the familiar streets and alleys of the Merchant Quarter for much the same reason as Sand had, though she relied on her own stealth rather than a spell to slip silently through the city. She had learned that Axle had left for safer ground along with his closest lieutenants a few tendays ago, but Neeshka found enough of her old contacts still in the city to arrange a meeting with Berger, who was supposed to be looking out for Axle's interests during his absence. She remembered him, but not fondly. He had also been part of Leldon's gang back when she was his child-apprentice and lover, and he had been outspoken about his jealousy because of her closeness to Leldon and the favors it gained her. A bribe of a gold crown was enough to get her contact to arrange a meeting with him at Axle's estate. She arrived early, scouted out the house, and marked the exits should things get ugly.

She looked around before she deactivated the ring, stepped out of the shadows, and rapped sharply four times on the door. It opened almost immediately, as if they knew she was there despite being invisible, and a small, thin, dark-haired woman with a black eye gestured her in and led her through the house to a comfortable wood-paneled study in the back. Berger sat behind Axle's teakwood desk in a chair upholstered in fine Amnian leather and gave Neeshka the once-over as she walked in. The years had not been kind to him. He was older, scarred, had thickened greatly in the middle, and his sandy hair was considerably thinner and streaked with gray. Neeshka took notice of the two brawny leather-clad thugs lounging casually against the walls on either side of the door without appearing to notice either of them. But it was part of the game. She knew they sized her up immediately too.

Berger took a deep drink of a ruby red liquor from a crystal goblet before he spoke. Neeshka wondered as she watched him drink (and not offer any to her) if Axle would appreciate him breaking into the good stuff while he was gone. "Haven't seen you in a while, Horn Head. Hear you got yourself a real sweet gig now out in the sticks."

Neeshka shrugged. "Yeah, I'm using my skills in a way that benefits others." She ignored eye rolls and derisive snorts from everyone in the room and tried not to sound defensive. "There was no more challenge here. Anyway, it's safer to go legit―other than when we're fighting undead and ancient Illefarn demigods. But the pickings are great!"

He apprised her, taking in her body language, her gleaming silver rapier and dagger, and her well-made leathers. "I assume there's a reason why you're back now? You must need something from us."

"We need information, and I'm authorized to pay well for it. Either gold, gems, or in trade for some enchantment work done by the Keep's archmage." She leaned forward as his eyes lit up at that promise. She quickly explained what had happened then added, "What we want to find out most of all is who still has contracts out on the Knight Captain. But I'm thinkin' this seems like too much work to go through just to collect a bounty, unless she was wanted alive so someone could have fun with her before they killed her. We think a jewel-encrusted locket that was given her as a gift might have been used to scry her, so they would know when to grab her. I need information on the artist who painted it, and who paid for it." She gave him the name from Kana's records and sat back, toying with the tip of her tail.

He crossed his arms across his chest and said smugly, "Have you considered that she might have been snatched for ransom?"

That hadn't occurred to Neeshka, but she dismissed it with a sharp shake of her head. "No, because no demand has been made, and isn't that the point? Yeah, I know it's only been a couple of days, but I don't think so. First off, her husband is a paladin of Tyr with no money of his own. You know Lord Nasher refuses to pay ransoms for his knights. Her mother is dead, and there's no telling _who_ her father is. So no, I don't think ransom could be the motive. We're thinking either bounty, revenge, or someone took her for her Githyanki sword. Or all three. And all we want is information on contracts, like I said, or anyone who might have been seeking information on her. And whatever you can dig up on this artist. The locket may be Thayan. I don't know if they have anything to do with this though."

He sat back and rubbed his stubble-covered chin as he listened. "Thayans? You won't have any luck there. Their ambassadors left with all the rest of Embassy Row, and none of them left so much as a dust ball behind. Lots of nasty traps set to guard nothing though. I lost two of my crew that way. I suppose you'll only pay according to what we can learn? What if the trail is cold?" He added gruffly, "I want a firm guarantee of payment for our efforts."

Neeshka casually reached into a pocket on her leather jerkin and withdrew a ruby and smiled slyly at him as she held it enticingly towards him in her hand. "Naturally. Consider this a down payment. Now if you're interested in a fire enchantment..."

She reactivated her ring a few minutes later and left with a spring in her step and with Berger's favorite rapier on her back, having arranged to return in a day's time for her information. She wasn't surprised at all that he wanted it enchanted to enhance its keenness, and the promise that Sand could do it tonight would be enough incentive to ensure their cooperation.

Meanwhile, Sand was ushered in to the High Justicar's private office to wait until he finished an emergency hearing. He was warned that the High Justicar had only time for a short meeting. Fortunately he was still in the city because he had refused to evacuate, arguing that his skill as a priest made him an asset despite his age, and that justice must still be dispensed. The waiting was frustrating as Sand thought about what else he could be doing.

Judge Oleff entered, congratulated Sand on their victory, and apologized for the lack of refreshments, explaining that the cooks and household staff had not yet returned, and so they were at the mercy of their acolytes. He poured them both a goblet of a sweet white wine and sat at his desk. "Now what is this my assistant said about Lady Farlong's disappearance?"

Sand grimly explained what had happened in the Mere, including Casavir's and Zhjaeve's probable deaths and Dee's abduction, watching his face for a reaction as he did so and noting with sad satisfaction the pain in his eyes and the way the old man's hands gripped the arms of his chair as he listened. They had an ally here. Sand opened his magic bag and produced the farewell letter she had written him, explaining she had left it for him in her "in case of death" pile. He handed it over. "Lord Nasher can't or won't use his resources to search for very long. We're not sure what help the temple can offer, but all our efforts may be pointless anyway. Whoever opened that portal could have taken her anywhere, assuming she still lives. She might not even be on Toril."

Judge Oleff dabbed at his eyes before he met Sand's, and his voice wavered as he finally spoke. "Our spells, resources, and prayers are at your disposal. There is a communion ritual that we will perform that can reveal whether Lady Farlong is...alive. It will take time to arrange, however. You don't know how sorry I am." He struggled to compose himself, and Sand felt on the verge of tears as well and thanked Mystra silently again that Duncan was gone. Being the bearer of bad news was not his forte. Yet he found himself reaching across the small table and putting his hand over the Justicar's.

After a few minutes Oleff continued. "When young Casavir's body has been recovered, I shall perform the ritual to resurrect him myself, provided that his spirit wishes to return. Unfortunately for those left behind, sometimes the spirit is quite content where it is. As far as the Githzerai, I know someone at Oghma's temple who can contact her people and tell us their wishes."

Sand stood and bowed gracefully. "Thank you, Your Honor. A recovery crew has been dispatched from the Keep, but it may be a tenday or longer before they can return with the..._remains_ of our comrades. We shall return to the Keep within the next few days if there is nothing further that can be done here. Sir Nevalle has invited us to stay at his family's estate while we're in the city. And I of course will let you know at once if we hear anything."

The Justicar bowed in return. "We will send word there if we learn anything as well. May Tyr guide you and help Lady Farlong."

Sand walked by the shrine to Mystra and made his own prayers and left an offering before he went to the _Moonstone Mask_. The sound of Grobnar's lute greeted him as he opened the door. The festhall was surprisingly busy, but not with the usual Blacklake clientèle. Many of the people here had been sent from Waterdeep by the Lords' Alliance to help defend Neverwinter, only to discover that the battle was over before it began. Thus they were at loose ends while they waited for ships to take them home.

Ophala glided over, took Sand's hands, and kissed him lightly on both cheeks, and they exchanged the customary pleasantries. "Come upstairs. I've managed to set aside a room for your party's use while you're here. Neeshka arrived just ahead of you and has gone up, and Grobnar has filled me in on what happened. I've already dispatched an agent with the information to the Harper house in Silverymoon, and they will see to sending on the notice from there. Vale will join us shortly to discuss divination spells." She patted his shoulder. "But I don't have to tell _you _that it won't be easy to find her, or that we must do so quickly."

Elsewhere on the Sword Coast:

Wolf tensed at a sudden loud popping sound, something that was definitely not natural and out of place in this forest clearing. He leaned against the trunk of the tree he sat in and raised his spyglass, peering carefully around the Luskan camp until he spied the tell-tale small circle of light, about the size of a copper piece. He twice made the shrill whistle of the mountain redwing (one of the few bird calls he could do really well) to get Zeta's attention, who was watching the camp from the shadows. Her job was to alert the others while he watched the Luskans.

The circle spread slowly until it was large enough for a man to walk through. A few minutes later the mage in the red gown stepped through, followed by the big man and the man in the gray robe. Something gray and furred, a canine of some sort judging by its shape, came through with him. Its teeth appeared to be sunk into his robe. The man cursed as he realized this, and Wolf bit back a gasp of shock as he recognized the familiar form of Karnwyr. He assumed Bishop would be right behind and would step through next, but then the woman dispelled the portal. He tried to make sense of it, but he was relieved that they hadn't brought back any prisoners. He observed that the fourth Luskan, the woman in leather, wasn't with them either, but he didn't have time to think about that because Karnwyr lunged into the back of the man in gray's knees, knocking him face-first into the ground. Karnwyr yelped loudly as he fell onto his right side.

Wolf watched as Karnwyr released his hold on the man's robe and struggled to his feet, holding up his right rear leg, which looked broken. He flattened his ears and snarled, but at the woman rather than at the man. It was very puzzling to Wolf. The man in gray calmly stood, grabbed his flail, and lashed at Karnwyr striking him across the back and yelling at him to get lost. Karnwyr howled in pain, but he was undeterred and lunged at the woman. Strangest of all to Wolf was that he was acting like he was trying to get one of her belt pouches rather than sink his teeth into her amply exposed flesh. She didn't seem concerned. She laughed melodically and sidestepped the injured wolf's lunge then began swirling her right hand and chanting words of magic.

At that Wolf impulsively raised his bow to stop her spell, praying he was in range for a killing shot, and not even debating the morality of killing someone who hadn't attacked him first. He wasn't thinking of anything beyond saving Karnwyr. He cursed himself as he realized then that he had allowed the big man to get out of his sight, and he hoped Zeta was more observant. Or that the others had gotten close enough to fight with them. It occurred to him that if he could let Karnwyr know there were friends about, he might give up his attack and run off to safety. Then he could try to heal him and figure out how to communicate with him to find out what was so interesting about that pouch. He pursed his lips and made a long low whistle that sounded somewhat like a raven. It would not have deceived anyone familiar with the woods, but Karnwyr had heard him practice it enough.

His heart was in his throat as he realized the mage looked like she was about to complete her spell as she brought her arm up and pointed at the wolf. It was now or never. He aimed for the center of her chest and loosed his arrow, knowing he wouldn't kill her from this range unless the goddess blessed his shot, and that he probably would have time for only one more shot before they were on him.

The campsite was suddenly enveloped in impenetrable darkness, and a heartbeat later he heard the woman scream as his arrow struck home. Wolf had just drawn another arrow and fitted it to his bow. He tried in vain to see anything through the inky blackness. His first thought was that either the mage or the man in gray had cast the spell, but from the shouting coming from the Luskan camp, they were as surprised as he was. He then decided to his relief that either Mignon or Leather was close enough to have done it. But the Luskans would retaliate once the initial shock wore off. He whistled again, this time copying a familiar whistle that Bishop often used to call his companion that he was sure Karnwyr would recognize. He smiled as he heard the wolf bark in recognition. Swinging to a lower branch then scampering down the tree like a squirrel despite the darkness, he prayed to Meilikki he hadn't given himself away and wasn't going right into the Luskan's clutches.

Before he reached the ground, he heard a familiar whine and felt the wolf brush his leg. A few heartbeats later, Zeta hissed, "Come on! Grab the mutt and let's get the hells out of here before they dispel it!"

She didn't have to tell him twice. He put his bow on his back and picked up the wolf and followed the sound of her voice. He whispered, "How the hells can you see? I'm lost!" He adjusted the wolf's weight as she put a hand on his shoulder to guide him. She led them on quickly to the edge of the darkness, nimbly jumping over a log he nearly tripped over. He could hear the curses that told him the Luskans were coming after them.

And then the darkness faded as suddenly as it appeared. Zeta cursed under her breath. "Cyric's taint, they dispelled it! Move before they see us!"

They ran towards where the others were waiting for them, Wolf struggling to run with Karnwyr in his arms. Karnwyr tried to get out of his grasp and whined, looking back towards the Luskan's camp while Wolf tried to calm him. Zeta whistled as she spotted Hiram lumbering towards them. Mignon stepped out from behind a tree to cast a spell that called up a wind to erase their tracks as Leather ran to intercept them, his flail at the ready. They took up defensive positions behind trees and watched for pursuit. There was no time for questions.

Wolf ran around a large rock outcropping and lay Karnwyr gently on the ground. "Sure wish I could understand what you wanted from that mage, boy." He knelt beside the wolf, who tried to get up, seeming to be determined to run back to renew his attack on the Luskans.

Zeta grinned. "I saw that he wanted one of her belt pouches, so I pinched it in the dark." She produced the pouch from inside her jerkin, where she had stuck it after she snatched it from the mage's belt. "Here it is, boy. Don't know what's so special about it though."

Karnwyr snapped at the pouch. Wolf held him down. "Calm down, boy. Let us fix your leg and then you can have it, alright?" Karnwyr whimpered, but the boy's calming voice soothed him. Wolf felt the leg and Karnwyr yelped in pain. "At least it feels straight." Wolf gave it a gentle pull to make sure it was aligned then closed his eyes and prayed for Meilikki's healing grace as Zeta watched. He sat back, and Karnwyr stretched his leg and stood on it gingerly.

Karnwyr licked Wolf's face as the boy hugged him and nuzzled Zeta before he took the pouch carefully in his mouth and lay down with it between his paws. He barked at it then looked up at them. Wolf hushed him, trying to communicate their danger. "We'll get somewhere safe and figure it out." He looked over and narrowed his eyes at Zeta. "But..."

She replied coyly, "What?" But he could tell from the way she looked away as well as the set of her shoulders, she knew very well 'what.'

He pressed her. "If the Luskans didn't cast that spell, and it wasn't Min or Leather, and it wasn't me, and it sure as hells wasn't Karnwyr, how did _you_ do it?"

She looked at the ground as she bent down and toyed with the drawstring on the pouch, a touch of pleading in her voice. "Can't a girl have some secrets?" She tried to change the subject. "Wonder what's in here? Ooh, I bet it's one of those magic bags! Should we dump it out and see if they have something of the ranger's? But Neeshka told me she just had to think about that she wanted in her bag and it would rise to the opening." She closed her eyes and willed that whatever belong to the wolf or the ranger rise as she opened the bag. She upended it and shook it out and a few heartbeats later shouted, "What the..."

Wolf gasped as he turned to see what was wrong but didn't get a chance to reply as a searing ball of fire erupted all around them, licking up the dead vegetation and spreading to the trees.

Elanee flew as fast as her wings would take her, having chosen her form of a mountain swift well. She was unaware that her companions, those who survived anyway, had returned safely to Crossroads Keep and had long since left on their own missions. She prayed as she flew that the tailwind that had been with her wouldn't fail her. She knew she would have to stop and rest soon and look for enough food to sustain her, for a bird required its own weight in food to maintain its energy.

Fortunately she was bound by neither trails nor by roads, cutting her journey by more than half, and with the winds, she would arrive at the Keep in the morning. The fastest path was a direct line over open country only occasionally flying near enough to the road to see it. She kept a wary eye out for the shadows of raptors out to make a quick meal of her, but she hadn't seen anything alive anywhere along her flight. Even the trees were bare, having lost their leaves as the shadows spread from the Mere. That vast emptiness made her heart ache, but she had faith that there would be a time for regrowth, as surely as spring would follow winter. And she vowed she would be a part of that regrowth and restoration.

Just when she was getting used to the loneliness, she caught sight of movement far below her. She banked and flew closer to take a look. In the distance she could make out the glint of sunlight on armed men and women on horseback in distinctive gray cloaks heading towards the Mere. She circled around and caught a momentary glimpse of shadow of someone passing ahead of the main force. She turned again, caught the draft, and followed. She saw nothing for several minutes and was beginning to think she had been mistaken and had banked to catch up with the Greycloaks when she caught sight of a shape flowing against brown earth. She went into a dive, catching the wind currents so she could overtake the shape, and her giddy heart skipped a beat knowing whose it was.

She circled him to be sure and shifted into her elven shape as she landed ahead of him. Daeghun drew up short as the bird circled him and flew past him before landing in a clearing ten feet away. He knew who it was before the bird began to glow and shimmer and shift its form for that of a young elven woman, and his heart felt light despite the grimness of his mission at the sight of her. He called her name, expressed as a long sigh of relief. "Elanee..." He rushed to close the gap between them and took her hands to draw her near as her transformation ended. In the distance they heard a horn blowing a pattern of two short notes and one long.

She smiled at him and spoke gently in their native elven dialect. "Daeghun. I'm so happy I spotted you. Thank Silvanus." She looked over in the direction of the horn then looked back at him. "The temple collapsed, and when we found a way out, the others sent me to fly to the Keep to get help. They were going to follow on foot..."

He hadn't let go of her hands, not that she was complaining, because she hadn't let go of his either. He interrupted her. "When we saw the gloom clear and the undead begin to fall, we knew you had succeeded, but when you did not return that day, we feared the worst and set out in search of you."

"We must get back immediately. Oh Daegun, something terrible has happened..." She hesitated before she blurted out the news of their dead and of Dee's abduction. They both turned their heads as they were interrupted by the sound of the horn again, closer this time, which was immediately answered my a much closer horn blaring the same note pattern. "That must be a messenger from the Keep!"

Daeghun's face was a mask of calm, but his eyes betrayed his pain. "That means there is news, and they've sent someone to intercept us. They might have found my daughter! Can you go on, or do you need to rest?"

She gave his hand a squeeze. "I'm was very tired, but not now. Come, let us hurry." But as they turned to rejoin the Greycloaks, they saw a ball of fire shoot up above some trees then engulf them. It looked to be a few miles away.

Elanee cried out in horror then frowned darkly as they watched the fire leaping from tree to tree. Daeghun instinctively pulled her to his chest to comfort her. She pulled away and looked up at him. "Forgive me, but I have to stop this fire, and then someone is going to pay for it!" She shifted into the form of a horse at once, and without hesitating, Daeghun grabbed her mane and gracefully leaped onto her back.

He leaned forward towards her ear as she turned and ran towards the fire. "Let us go quickly, Elanee. I can't explain it, but I have a feeling that we're needed there."

Thunder walked slowly in a circle, trying to sense the direction of his bonded again. He pawed the ground and tossed his mane in frustration. He had seen an image of his bonded in pain and in danger, and it caused him to knock down a door and escape from his stall. But the vision that had led him deep into the woods disappeared as suddenly as it had appeared. Yet he didn't sense that the bond the maimed one had created between them had been broken by death. He raised his head and whinnied, but nothing replied. He snorted and walked down a hill to slake his thirst in a stream.

He was hungry but the grass here was dead, tainted by the great wrongness that had been and was now gone. He had known the direction though, and he knew he should head that way despite losing contact. He walked up the next hill trying to spot the horse he had run with and then ahead of, whose rider was bellowing to its kin. If he found him and followed them, they might yet lead him to his bonded. As he reached the summit, he was startled by a loud noise and smelled then saw fire in the distance. His natural instinct would have been to run away in panic from the fire. But he perked up his ears as the vision returned. _He_ was back, and Thunder now knew where to find him. He reared up on his hind legs and neighed then sped off towards the fire.

As he felt the spell paralyzing him ending, Casavir, bound face to face with Bishop, struggled to free himself. The ranger was still alive though his breathing was ragged, and Casavir knew that if not for his ring, he would probably be in as bad of shape now. He looked around them through the thick gloom, trying to get a sense of direction from where they floated. He thanked Tyr that gravity did not seem to work the same way in this space as on the Prime. It was almost like moving through water. At the same time he tried not to think about stories he had heard of horrors being stored in these bags. He had read an account while at the temple college of someone who had managed to trap a demi-lich in a magic bag, but that seemed improbable. He had also read accounts of strange creatures which dwelt in them.

And there was light throughout this _demi-plane_ where they had been imprisoned. He looked up; he could see light that way too, though it wavered. If he could somehow make his way up—but what then? And was he sure it was indeed up? And how long would it take? He couldn't even tell how big this place was, and he was losing all sense of time. He twisted and squirmed until he was able to reach a small dagger Dee had made him in a sheath on his belt. He withdrew it, gasping in alarm as it nearly slipped out of his grip.

A few more minutes of squirming, drawing close to Bishop as he did, and he had managed to cut the rope to free his arm. He whispered a prayer of thanks to Tyr as he freed the other, and Bishop fell away from him, though their legs were still bound together. Grabbing him close then putting his hands on Bishop's hips for leverage, he pushed away and up. He smiled in grim satisfaction as they did make some progress, though he couldn't tell how far away the light was.

But Bishop was impeding him. It was tempting to cut him loose, even more tempting when he considered that very soon if they didn't escape he would be bound to a corpse, but if he did he would drift away and be lost here to rot. And moreover, Casavir felt it would be wrong to let him die when it was in his power to save him, though the irony that he was only saving him for the hangman did not escape him. He sighed and tugged on the rope to pull Bishop closer. And since a living ally was better than a dead one, he muttered, "Can you understand me? I'm probably going to regret this, but we have to work together if you want to get away from these people. Otherwise, I fear we're bound for Luskan, alive or dead. Will you cooperate?"

Bishop gasped his reply as he struggled for breath. "Let...me go...only way." He began gulping air into his lungs after that exertion, but he didn't have the strength to draw it in. He had suspected that the people who found them were Luskans, probably after that bounty on _her._ Wench couldn't even let him die in peace. He wondered if his last thought was going to be to curse her for getting him into this situation, but he knew in his heart that there were enough people in Luskan who wanted him too. He also was no fool, knowing that the gallows was the only thing he had to look forward to without an assurance the paladin would let him go. But even thinking was becoming difficult now, and he heard an odd raspy sound and realized it was coming from himself.

Casavir grimaced. "Very well, I swear it by Tyr. We must get free to save Dee." He pulled Bishop close as he felt his life slipping away and put his mouth over the ranger's and blew gently into his lungs over and over until Bishop seemed to be breathing on his own. He regretfully slipped Dee's ring off his finger and put it on Bishop's. "That's only until you're strong enough to go on. We will have the Luskans to deal with if we find a way out." After waiting a few minutes for the worst of Bishop's injuries to heal, Casavir took his ring back and bound an end of the rope to Bishop's wrist so they wouldn't become separated. He put his hands on Bishop's hips again then lifted and pushed him up as hard as he could, kicking his legs like he was swimming to follow.

They were making progress until the light they had been swimming towards suddenly winked out. They both cursed. Bishop grinned sardonically at the paladin. "Don't worry, I think Tyr understands, your holiness. The Luskan bitch must have closed the bag."

"Perhaps if we reach the top or find a side, we can cut our way out of here." Casavir pushed off him again. They had no sense of how long they had been trapped as they moved, ignoring strange noises coming from within and without the bag. Casavir sang a hymn to Tyr as they moved to bolster his courage, much to Bishop's obvious annoyance.

Bishop tugged on the rope and pointed. "There! The light is back! Must've teleported us back to Luskan."

Casavir nodded. "Be ready. Unfortunately the Luskans relieved me of my sword, but I have this dagger."

Bishop snorted and drew his old hunting knife, which Dee had buried in his back when he fled the Keep. "That's fine if you want to have the Luskans for supper. _This_ is a knife. But I guess yours will do."

The circle of light was markedly larger now. Casavir leaned close and put his arms around Bishop. "Pretend that we are still bound and unconscious so we can gain a small advantage of surprise when they take us out."

Bishop snarled, "Let them haul us into their dungeon? I say we kill everyone we can as fast as we can and make a run for it." Bishop thought he heard something echoing through this space that sounded oddly like Karnwyr's bark. "Is that the mutt?"

They found themselves moving much faster through the light as if someone was willing them to the top of the bag. Casavir whispered, "This is it!"

The light was blinding, and the air was fresh and cool as they flew out and hit the dirt hard. They blinked to adjust, and Bishop was about to swing his knife out to slash the closest Luskan when he was tackled by a bundle of fur that began licking his face. "Mutt?"

Casavir let go of the ranger as his vision cleared, and he made out the face of one of the orphans who worked at the Keep leaning over them, who cursed as she scrambled backwards from him and Bishop wide-eyed in shock. "How did you..." He was unable to finish his question. A heartbeat later they heard an explosion and the trees around them were engulfed in flame.


	49. Uneasy Alliances

Chapter 49 Uneasy Alliances

Usual disclaimers:

Most of the characters in this story are owned by Bioware and a whole lot of other people other than a bear and paladin-lovin' ranger and an occasional NPC. Also, some of the dialog is paraphrased from MotB. Reviews, concrit, suggestions, and advice always appreciated.

Rashemen:

Dee stirred in her sleep as a gust of wind blew across the barge, and snuggled closer under Okku's massive foreleg. As she moved away, Safiya, lying between Dee and Cillian and huddled in her bedroll, shifted closer to her, and Dee reflexively put her arm around her and Kaji.

Casavir was on Dee's mind now as he was increasingly every day they were apart; she recalled that his birthday was drawing near as she returned to sleep, and she was fretting that she might not be with him to celebrate it (while at the same time forcing herself not to think that he might not even be alive to celebrate it), and trying to think of a special gift for a man who always insisted he needed nothing.

Gann finished his shift manning a pole to help guide the barge as it slipped across the lake. He drained his water skin then relieved himself over the side of the barge into the inky water. He was unused to such strenuous exercise as he had gotten since agreeing to help the outlander, and his arms and back ached. At the same time, as he rubbed the stiffness out of his arms, he smiled at the feel of the firm muscle he was building. He walked around a stack of crates and lay on the deck against the stack then drew his cloak more tightly around himself. It seemed Old Man Winter was threatening to come early this year. He watched his companions, all but the Dove, who kept to herself on the far side of the barge. But now that he was free to sleep and to dream, he willed himself into the dream realm to wander through the dreams of his companions, though he already knew there was only one dream he would be exploring.

Kaelyn's dreams were an merely an echo of her waking fanaticism to destroy the death god's Wall of the Faithless, so he avoided those. Indeed, it occurred to him that her waking life was dedicated to carrying out her dream; she seemed bereft of any other passion. He thus found her dreams boring. As for the others, Gann told himself he had no interest in the bear god's dreams, though he wouldn't admit that the truth was he feared to approach him in that realm. And he had only needed to explore Safiya's dreams a few times to decide that was not a place he wanted to visit again. He had wandered into the dreams of lunatics a few times over the years, and once he had even entered the dream of a woman who had been possessed by evil spirits in an attempt to free her, but they had almost killed him and trapped him forever in their insanity before he managed to fight his way to an escape. To his thinking the lovely Thayan mage's dreams were far too similar to those dreams.

Since first exploring her dream, during his waking hours he studied Safiya from his regular position in the rear of their party where his bow did the most good. He had come to the conclusion that she was only vaguely aware of the strangeness within her, though he had overheard her talking with their leader once about the voices in her mind that had plagued her since her childhood, infrequent, yet disturbing nonetheless. Yet he sensed that her affliction was more than mere madness. It went far deeper, but it was as dissimilar to possession as it was similar. She was a mystery, and his spirits had no answers to his questions regarding her mystery either. He considered taking their fair leader aside and relating what he had seen, but he wasn't sure if she would believe him. Nor would he blame her.

That left their leader. To his mind Dee was nearly as fanatical in her religious beliefs as the Dove. As the days wore on when they weren't fighting all manner of undead or malevolent spirits and creatures that she seemed to attract like a flower attracts bees, she could be found in prayer to the gods she followed, Mielikki and Tyr, and increasingly, Kelemvor. But considering the nature of her curse, he supposed he couldn't blame her for her prayers and petitions to her gods, though he still believed them pointless. She and the Dove were two sides of the same coin. Their fair leader's dreams were a different story, however. And thus his choice was easy, and he willed himself into a trance then wandered until he found her. Besides, he was afraid that she might need his guidance through the dream's landscape or be tempted to surrender to the dream forever.

There was no cake, for he admitted he did not care for it, which was another piece of information that she had had to wheedle out of him. Dee had muttered as he grinned sheepishly, "You would think I was askin' you to give me a map of Neverwinter or turn over all the state secrets." But that look was so adorable. He confessed he preferred pies and tarts, or a simple bowl of fruit with cream, and he loved berries best of all the fruit. So berries and cream it was.

She swayed seductively to where he sat at the table, wearing an apron over leather trewes and a linen shirt. No, that wasn't right. She was wearing his current favorite of her small clothes and stockings held up with blue silk garters under the apron. She spooned him out a heaping bowl of black raspberries as he watched her, his blue eyes sparkling like sapphires. She frowned for a moment wondering how she had acquired such ripe, fresh, plump berries out of season. But then she caught sight of him gazing at her with a sweet smile that lit up his entire face. He took her hand and kissed it and drew her to sit on his left thigh as they shared the bowl so that he could caress her with his free hand. He managed with one hand to untie the apron and tossed it aside, and he paused to give her a long, lusty look. She leaned against him, nesting her head into the crook of his neck, taking in his scent of pine soap, marble dust, and a subtle trace of his own masculine scent he hadn't washed away.

He kissed his way across her throat between bites then pulled back to look in her eyes. "You're sure you don't mind staying in tonight, my love? I know you wished to go see that new bard."

She slipped her hand, which had been caressing his back, under his shirt. No, that wasn't right, he removed his shirt when he washed up when he came in from his workshop; she ran her nails lightly through the mat of dark hair on his broad chest. That was better. "We can go out any time, love. He'll be there tomorrow or the next day. This is your birthday, and if you want to spend it here with me, who am I to complain?" She shifted on his lap so she was facing him when he finished his berries and smiled coyly, purring, "But tell me, what shall we do to pass the evening, hmm? Is there anything particular you have in mind? A game of chess, mayhap, or will we spend it reading before the fire?" She kissed her way across his strong jaw then took his chin in her hand, stroking his neat, silky beard. When did he grow a beard? She immediately dismissed the distracting thought. It didn't matter; he was as handsome with it as she had always imagined he would be.

He did have something in mind that he had seen in a Lantan pillow book at the festhall. His hand toyed with the ruffle on the edge of her small clothes, lightly stroking the top of her thigh. "Well first, would you..." though he flushed crimson and still felt he had to whisper his desire to her as he nipped at her earlobe then drew back to gaze into her eyes. "Then we could..." He whispered that too. "That is if you don't mind..."

No, she didn't mind at all. She found herself giggling like a schoolgirl as she put her arms around his neck and whispered, "But you don't have to save that for your birthday." He slipped his hands under her legs and stood and carried her to their bed. It was perfect—too perfect, and the off details that had been nagging her began doing so again. And suddenly she knew why. It was only a dream, and yet the dream did not unravel with this realization. She also knew why.

This is what Gann had called a lucid dream. She could try to control it as he had taught her a tenday ago when they traveled to Immil Vale. They had camped at an ancient site of power, the Mosstone, an astonishing single rock the size of a mountain. Gann had explained that night as they met in her dream that the site was another nexus between the planes, and the wall separating dreaming from waking was especially thin there. But he had explained that lucid dreaming was a skill developed with practice, and she didn't think she was practiced enough to control her dreams without his help. That meant he was here somewhere, watching them. She was angry, furious in fact, but in a few heartbeats she thought better of it, calmed herself, and reclaimed her dream. She murmured, "Fair enough. Let him watch if it means I can have my Cas," and returned her attention fully to her husband.

The better part of an hour later after they had laid together basking in the afterglow, kissing and caressing one another softly and talking quietly of nothing in particular, he drifted off to sleep as he often did. She did not want it to end, but Gann had warned her she could become trapped in her dream like the girl they had encountered at a farm outside the Wells of Larue. With all of Gann's power, he had been unable to free the girl. She was doomed never to awaken. Dee sat up in bed and looked around the room. With a thought on her part there was a roaring fire in the fireplace, which provided a warm light. Gann was sitting casually at the table with a glass of wine, watching them. He smirked as he met her eyes and conjured a lit candle at the table. "That is your paladin? No wonder you have no eyes for another. He's very handsome, and I sense his looks haven't been enhanced by you either, though you have enhanced your own features."

"What do you mean?" She was taken aback and looked down at herself, noting the rounded breasts and hips and the firm flesh covering her muscles. "Oh, I see." But it occurred to her that this was how she always saw herself in her dreams. Her reality was far different.

He echoed her thought. "You look healthy and...quite fleshy. You are much altered from your waking cadaverous appearance. The dark circles under your eyes and your sunken cheeks are also gone. This is how you truly see yourself."

She leaned down and gave Casavir a kiss on the forehead then stood, walking across the room to the spirit shaman. As she walked across the room, she frowned, and with another thought found herself wearing a long azure dressing gown. She sat at the table opposite him, regarding him coolly for a few minutes before she spoke. "I should be very angry with you, Gannyev, but then again, I should thank you for showing me this was only a dream before I woke up and had my heart crushed again when I figured out I wasn't home."

If he was chagrined, he didn't show it. "There is enough pain and horror in your waking life, fair leader, without it polluting your dreams as well. So yes, I came to help you. Your dream walking abilities are growing by the day, but I thought you might need me to guide you back if you got in too deep. Though it pains me to say it, we should return soon. It's all too tempting to remain in the dream beyond its time." He paused and leered at her. "Unless you wish to wake up your husband for another round..."

She growled, "Don't make a habit of this, Gann. This isn't a festhall where you can watch through a peephole for a few gold." Cillian, who had been dozing by the fire, stood and ambled over to her and chuffed at the spirit shaman.

He frowned at the scolding and at her conjuring the bear to back her up and changed the subject to divert her anger. "Is this your home that you're always talking about? Is it accurate?"

Dee looked around. "This is our chamber at the Keep. But looking at it again, things are off. That hideous carpet in front of the fire is gone, for one thing. I suppose that means my perception is off?" She glanced across the room to where Casavir was sleeping peacefully. "Do you think he knows I'm here? Is it possible I'm in his dream and not the other way around?"

Gann tossed his hair and replied disdainfully, "Even I'm not powerful enough to travel that far, fair leader, and you certainly are not. No, this is all yours. Are you ready to go now?"

She looked away from his gaze. "Why, are you in a hurry to find some farm girl's dream to explore? If not, let us go for a walk about my Keep. I feel like talkin' and for some reason I feel freer to talk here than in the waking world." She stood and crept over and gave Casavir another kiss, smiling as he murmured her name. She sighed "I'll be right back. I love you," and reluctantly rejoined Gann by the open door.

She led him out and down the hall then down the stairs. They walked past the guards, who were unaware of their passing, and continued down towards the dungeon levels. She pointed out Sand's workshop as they walked by, but Sand was not there. "He's probably in the library or at the _Ginger Cat._ He's a favorite of the ladies there." The sounds of Grobnar's lute and another played by someone who was less skilled flowed under his door. "Sounds like he's giving his student a lesson."

He smirked at her. "It occurs to me you said you wished to discuss something, but you're stalling, fair leader. Or is it that you're stalling because you're reluctant to leave the dream?"

Dee shrugged guiltily. "Wouldn't you be? I'm home with the man I love. So much has happened in the past few tendays it makes my head spin. At least I know more about this curse, but I'm still not sure how Safiya's ma plays in to this yet. Safiya looked just like Akachi's lover in my dream at the Mosstone, but she or her mother would have to be a thousand years old, and she sure as hells isn't an elf. But I've heard mages can extend their life unnaturally through their magic, so mayhap it was her." She didn't know why she had led him this way, but as she drew near the glowing runes of the summoning circle first etched into the stone by Black Garius and his minions and saw Neeshka standing there staring intently into the circle, she thought she knew.

Gann stopped dead in his tracks and pointed at the tiefling. "Who is this vision of devilish beauty? I must say you certainly collect some interesting friends, fair leader."

She leaned down to whisper to Gann (noting that her dream version seemed much shorter), "That's my friend Neeshka I told you about, the one who taught me to pick locks. I s'pose she's my closest friend here besides Sand. She comes here to talk to a pit fiend that the warlock who traveled with us had bound into his service."

Gann arched an eyebrow. "A dangerous hobby. And yet you trust this ruby-eyed temptress? Look at that tail swing. It boggles the mind imagining what she could do with it."

She didn't even have to think about her reply. "Yeah, I trust her with my life. She's a lot like you, a cambion for a father, mayhap, and abandoned by her mother at a temple of Helm when she was but a newborn babe. I'm not happy about her spendin' so much time here conversin' with a pit fiend, but he hinted that he knew about her that enough he got under her skin. He's a handsome, persuasive devil, not a regular pit fiend. I guess that makes him more dangerous. She's also convinced herself he's her grandfather."

She gasped at a sudden idea. "If there was some way of summoning Mephasm, I could get a message to Neesh!" But she shook her head sadly as she immediately realized how futile that was. "But I don't know anyone besides Ammon Jerro who could do it. Safiya said when we were talkin' about Jerro a few days ago that she felt he walked a dangerous road, and there was nothin' she wanted that would be worth the risk of workin' with fiends. So she wouldn't do it, even if she knew how to cast the circle."

Gann nodded as he continued to study Neeshka. "Nor would such a creature be likely to deliver a message for you without your taking a chance of paying more for his service than you might wish to pay." At that moment Neeshka turned her head and peered searchingly in their direction for the space of a few heartbeats then turned back to the summoning circle. Gann arched an eyebrow. "Now that's strange. It seemed for a moment like the she knew we were here."

Dee studied Neeshka thoughtfully. "I don't want to get my hopes up, but mayhap 'tis because of her lower planes blood. But let's go on." They walked up another flight of stairs and through the kitchens then through a door leading outside to Elanee's herb garden.

Gann looked around. "This is a lovely garden, but it's deserted. We should return."

Dee shrugged defensively and looked down at the ground. "Soon. Just a bit longer. I will try to go back on my own but let you watch and take over if I can't find the way. You're right though, my ability to control the dreams has gotten stronger. I wonder if 'tis somethin' I inherited from my mother? She was said to be able to see the future in her dreams or travel to see her friends, and some I've met who knew her said it nearly drove her mad. She saw her second husband's death in a dream a month before the word reached her."

He stroked his smooth chin as he thought. "Indeed? Perhaps she was a dream walker then, but without proper training, she could indeed go mad or lose herself in drink or narcotics." He stared at Dee until she began to feel self-conscious and reached up to fasten the top of her robe. After a few moments he spoke. "I did not want to say it, but your body isgrowing weaker even as your control over your curse grows stronger. One of the abilities of a spirit shaman is that of traveling to this plane to diagnose illnesses and other maladies in our those who put themselves in our control. I can see a black aura surrounding your heart and spreading out from there. I never thought I would say this, but I think you should give in to the hunger every few days and stop feeding it from your own body." He peered at her again and frowned and looked as if he was on the verge of saying something more, but being unsure of what he saw, he decided to keep it to himself.

But she was adamant. "No. Once was enough. It took me more than a tenday to get Okku to forgive me for that. I will _not_ destroy another spirit if I can help it. Discovering that denying the hunger when I'm surrounded by spirits can strengthen me nearly as much as giving in to it—the gods must have shown me that. I never would have figured it out on my own. Granted, it is hard on me now while we're traveling and so far from spirits to resist devouring, but once we reach the sunken city I'm hoping that will change. And I sensed something else when we explored Myrkul's vault that I fear to use, but I know I can use it if I must."

He leaned down to a large rosemary bush and took in its scent. "What a delightful herb. Very invigorating. But do go on. You mean discovering you could do something besides devouring the spirits of the priests and criminals trapped there?"

She reached for a sprig of lavender and broke it off then tucked it behind her ear and murmured, "Cas loves the smell of lavender. I keep a big sachet of it in my trunk with my clothes." She offered another sprig to Gann. "Yes, my discovery that I could tap into the god's power and send those trapped spirits to the afterlife instead." For something changed when she found herself sympathizing with the spirit of a murdered priest of Myrkul as she listened to his story of how had been thrown alive into the temple's crematorium for refusing to give up his god's secrets to the new priests of Cyric. Suddenly she _knew_ how to use the power to send him on, though she wasn't sure where she sent him or the spirits of the Myrkulan priests and scribes since their god was dead. But it was enough that they were no longer bound to Myrkul's temple on the shadow plane.

He frowned skeptically. "I do admit you tapped into _something_. I find it hard to believe it stems from the power of a dead god, however."

It seemed they were doomed to argue as well. She sighed in exasperation. "I don't want to quarrel about faith with you again, Gann. I do enough of that with Kaelyn. So tell me then, what is your explanation if you don't believe I managed to tap into his power that Myrkul imbued the curse with?"

Gann tossed his hair out of his face, trying to hide his annoyance. But not having a ready answer, he changed the subject again. "Indeed you do seem to quarrel with our little songbird, though you both remain disgustingly civil when you do so. Still, I can't help but wonder how long your alliance with her will last, especially if we cannot find a way through that portal. Now if you are ready, we should really be going."

Dee stood and gestured him on. "It's not too late. Let us tarry here a little bit longer." He joined her and they retraced their steps. "I don't know how long Kaelyn will stick around either. I s'pose we both expect we can sway the other in time. There's not much we can do anyway until we speak to the hags of the Slumbering Coven, and that's assuming they will even grant us an audience, and assuming then that they will tell us what they told Safiya's ma and her sister. That's a lot of assumptions. They might refuse us or tell us to go jump in the lake. Or we might have to fight our way out of there. Are you alright with that if we do?"

He nodded. "If we must. Despite being born of one I have no particular love for hags, though I must warn you not to underestimate them if it does come to that. Besides, I seek my own answers there as well. I've been seeing the sunken city calling to me in my dreams for some time now."

She paused opening the door. "Aye? You never told me that."

He chuckled. "We are both of us freer to bare our souls here, fair leader."

They walked up to the main door of the Keep, though they should have had to walk through many hallways and stairs to reach it. Dee smiled, realizing she had been thinking about this door, and there they were. "I only hope 'tis not another a dead end. I don't know what I'll do then or how I'll be able to go on. And I'm sick to death of bein' used by the witches or anyone else who needs a dirty deed done."

He uncharacteristically put a comforting hand on her shoulder. "They haven't all been dead ends, Dee. We cured the Woodman and delivered the Ashenwood from the damage brought by other spirit eaters. It seems as if you gain a bit more knowledge about Akachi and his rebellion everywhere we've journeyed, more pieces to the puzzle. But we still must fit the pieces together into a recognizable form, and...as I said, I don't know how long your body can endure. Perhaps we should go back to the Wells of Larue or the Ashenwood if we...if there is nothing more to be done. You were so joyful there in those woods, running with a herd of telethor deer, teaching Kaji's the names of the plants and trees and showing him how to read tracks. And I'll never forget watching you fishing in that creek with Cillian and Old Father Bear. I half expected you to stick your head under the water and come up with a fish in your teeth like they did. I still can't believe you caught one with your bare hands."

She gave him a hug, something she had never done in the waking world. "Thanks, Gann. You remind me that not every experience here has been bleak. I am a ranger, and this place reminds me of that. I let myself get away from it for far too long. And I love Rashemen. The wilds are unlike anything I've seen outside of Arvahn. I would love to bring Cas here some day to see it and introduce him to the barbarians at the _Ice Troll Lodge_ now that I'm an official member. But I meant what I promised Okku. If we can't find the way to end this curse forever, I'll willingly go back to his barrow with him as that mage who bore the curse before me did, and Safiya said she will recast the binding runes to trap it there. I would rather die than see the curse pass on to another."

Gann swallowed hard. "I believe you. For someone who can be so full of life, you seem very willing to throw it away."

Dee shrugged. "I've spent the past two years of my life ready to die, so you could say I have practice. I bought a vial of black lotus extract in Mulsantir, and that'll be just the thing to bring me back into this dream forever. Beats slowly starving to death waitin' for the curse to consume me."

Gann hugged her back. "I cannot fault you for that. But come, we should return."

Dee looked around the Keep longingly. "I'm almost ready. Please, just a bit longer?"

"Very well then, but only a few minutes longer." They walked down the hill and past the temple of Tyr, except she pointed out that it was bigger than the last time she saw it. She told him that a wing housing an infirmary and a school had been added on one side, and a smaller wing enclosed by a low wall and a garden had been added in the back. "I drew that out with Brother Ivarr. I wanted to build that wing to house a monastery for my friend Khelgar." She gasped in delight. "And look, he's sittin' yonder in the garden."

Gann snorted and pinched her cheek. "But of course, silly woman, you were thinking about him." Gann looked where she indicated and saw a bald dwarf whose chest was covered with a thick russet beard sitting cross-legged with his hands resting lightly on his knees. He was also chanting softly and hovering a few inches above the ground. Gann blinked, shook his head, and looked again.

Dee grinned. "Your eyes aren't deceiving you. I caught him doin' that more than once." As they watched, Khelgar slowly opened his eyes as he floated to the ground, and he turned his head and smiled benignly at them. She whispered, "This is very strange. 'Tis like he can see us too!"

Gann studied the dwarf. "Indeed. This is unexpected. Try speaking to him."

She crept forward. "Khelgar?"

If Khelgar knew she was there, however, he didn't show it. Instead he bounced to his feet, stretched until his back gave a satisfying crack, and began a series of slow gestures and kicks. After a few minutes of trying to communicate with him, Dee gave up and turned away. "Let's go to the festhall. Sand is probably there. But then again, I don't know if I want to interrupt him if they're in the shrine to Sharess in the cellar."

Gann smirked. "A shrine to Sharess? Finally, you bring me to one house of worship I don't mind exploring."

Dee chuckled lightly. "Yeah, I bet you don't. That painting that Neesh posed for should be done by now too. The Mistress planned to hang it over the bar. Let's pretend we're havin' a drink and listen to the bard and you can ogle Neesh lyin' there with Cillian."

They walked through the door. Gann paused on the threshold. "But I insist we return after the drink. She posed with your bear companion?"

Dee took his hand and led him through the crowded festhall and replied with a touch of desperation, "I just want to hear the bard, and then I promise we'll go. But yeah, there it is. The Mistress thought it was a joke. Neesh in her bare skin lyin' on a bear skin. She didn't have a bear skin rug though, so Cillian was willing to lie there and let Neeshka snuggle with him." She looked around, conscious that Cillian wasn't with them. But then there he was, by her side as always. She reached down to stroke the top of the bear's head.

Dee looked around for familiar faces. Mistress Maisie was by the stairs, introducing a few of her entertainers to a customer, and her husband Jalboun was wiping out a mug at the bar while keeping a practiced eye on the crowd for trouble. Gann sat at an empty table which materialized for them and turned so he had a good view of the painting of Neeshka. "Such a saucy beauty. I certainly wouldn't mind meeting her in a dream."

Dee handed Gann a goblet of harvest mead and took a sip of her own, which tasted just as she remembered it. "If we're end the curse, you can come back with me and meet her in the flesh. At least the other witches are convinced I'm not an abomination now. I'm not feelin' nearly as much hate and loathing from the Rashemis either. I have to admit 'twas most satisfying watching Kazimika eat crow yesterday after wantin' to toss me off the top of the cliff since I got here. I know our reception wouldn't have been as warm if we hadn't cured the Woodman, not to mention saving their sister witch Dalenka from her apprentice's plot."

Gann took a deep quaff of the harvest mead then reluctantly turned from the portrait of Neeshka to regard Dee coolly. "Can I ask you something?"

Dee had been distracted trying to will Sand to appear, but nothing was happening on that front. "Hmm?"

"That odd word. I've heard you use it, and I observed that you nearly broke down in tears when Sheva Whitefeather told you it was the password for the barge, though you recovered quickly enough. _Wendersnaven_. What does it mean? It must have some esoteric significance. Care to explain, fair leader, or would you have to kill me if you did?"

Dee grinned and sipped her mead before she replied. "I won't have to kill you. How likely are you to remember when you awaken? Very well, you've heard of the Harpers? 'Tis a code word that agents who are far from their contacts and in trouble use to identify one another. I can't say whether Sheva Harps, but she's very friendly with at least one senior Harper agent if she knows it. In that one word she let me know I was among friends and that she would pass the message about where I was as soon as she could. So even if Azim and Mavish's son doesn't find his way to the Keep, the Harpers will get the word to my foster father eventually." She tried not to think about the danger of sending a boy of seventeen winters off with a merchant caravan to deliver her letter, but she reminded herself he was of age, and it had been his choice to go. But even in the dream she still felt guilty.

Someone rang a bell to get the audience's attention, and the bard stepped onto the stage and bowed to the audience then began his performance. Rather than singing, he announced he would deliver a dramatic soliloquy. Of course it was from a play, _Merry Merry Milkmaids,_ that Dee and Gann were very familiar with as the troupe at _The Veil_ had been rehearsing it for a tenday, so it was no surprise it found its way into her dream. After he had recited a dozen lines, Gann tossed his hair in disgust and whispered, "He's dreadful. He has no sense of timing whatsoever! Why, I reckon our bargeman could do better."

Dee grinned and whispered back, "Or you, you mean. You gave quite a performance when you stepped in for Sweet William the other night when his gout flared up." She shook her head, still amazed that as weak and sick as she felt, she had still summoned the strength to watch the opening performance from the wings, but she could lose herself in the performance and forget her troubles if only for an hour. "I've seen you mimicking the actors, and you're a natural. You should consider joining a roving theater troupe. My foster father said my ma did that. 'Tis a good way to see the world."

Gann had enough of the bard. He muttered, "No, no, no! This is how it should be done!" He stood told the bard to take a seat then repeated the lines in the way he felt they should be delivered.

The patrons applauded him when he finished and retook his seat. Dee slapped him on the back. "Well done! And you were right. That was much better." She sighed and finished her mead. "But we should be getting back. We'll arrive at the sunken city tomorrow afternoon. I have a strong feelin' that the answers we seek are there. We know it was after their audience with the hags that Nefris and Lienna decided to steal me away."

Gann was still flushed with excitement. "Yes, it's just as well. You could have easily persuaded me to stay to give another performance. Go on, I will follow."

Dee stood and glanced back over her shoulder at him then found herself outside. She looked up at the stars, one of the only familiar things in Mulsantir, and put her hand on Cillian's head. "It's time for this dream to end, but only until I'm back where I belong. Come along, my love." They walked back using the stars to show her way and wasn't surprised at all to find in a few moments that she was flying.

She was cold despite being sheltered by Okku's body. Dee coughed as she awoke and slipped out from under Okku's leg. She sat up. Lathander's light painted the eastern sky with the faintest touch of white. She reached for her water skin and quaffed it deeply. Cillian disentangled himself from Safiya and ambled over to her and nuzzled her, and she hugged him back. She looked around and spotted Gann lying beside a crate wrapped in his cloak. His eyes met hers for a heartbeat, and then he stretched and turned over facing away from her to return to sleep. It was tempting to do likewise. But tired as she was, Dee dug through her pack until she found her journal. She crept over to the other side of the crates so she could use her mage light without awakening anyone then took out a quill and jar of ink to write down as many details as she could remember before they faded with Lathander's rosy dawn.


	50. Misadventure

Chapter 50 Misadventure

Usual disclaimer: Some of the characters in this chapter are not owned by me, though all of the NPC's are. Concrit and suggestions appreciated.

Somewhere on the Sword Coast:

The very air seemed to be on fire, blistering their lungs. A flock of ravens took to the air to escape, though several of them fell to the ground, killed instantly by the blast. Casavir held his breath and threw himself on top of the girl, who had been kneeling beside him when he emerged from imprisonment in the bag. Bishop likewise instinctively threw himself on top of Karnwyr, but also happened to land on Wolf. Casavir was lucky in that he was wearing the red dragon scale armor that Dee insisted be made for him, and then insisted he wear, though frankly, he thought it was pretentious. It protected him from the brunt of the blast. Bishop, however, was not so lucky.

The flames swirled away from them, but they began licking hungrily up several of the dry trees, and then rapidly leaping to the next tree and the next to devour those as well. The girl under Casavir was screaming in terror. He called on Tyr to send his power to calm her. He sensed the flames were no longer an immediate threat, and he raised off her and reached for his hammer. But he remembered the Luskans had taken it from him when they pulled him from the rubble. He was only armed with the dining knife that Dee had made for him. His cloak was burning, but it was made of thick wool and was easy to yank off and put out.

The girl was moaning softly, curled up in a fetal position, her eyes clamped shut and her arms wrapped tightly around herself. He was torn between examining her for injury and dealing with the threat of the Luskans, who surely were behind the attack. He reached for her shoulder, but she let out a terrified squeak and backed away. He said firmly, "Stay behind me until we know it's safe." He leaped to his feet and assessed the situation.

The initial fireball that had struck their position had burned out, but the fire was tearing through the forest. Bishop was lying prone groaning in agony, his cloak still on fire. Wolf and Karnwyr were trying to get out from under him. The fireball had burned away part of the boy's trewes, blistering his leg. Karnwyr's was burned along his back and right leg. A quick examination told Casavir the girl he had been lying on top of had avoided the blast. Yet for a heartbeat he detected a faint but unmistakable trace of brimstone. He involuntarily scanned her; there was no mistaking what that scent was and what it told him about her. But that was an issue for later. He rushed over to help Wolf and Bishop.

Wolf managed to squeeze his way out from under Bishop. Casavir snatched the ranger's burning cloak off him and used it to beat out the flames on both of them. Karnwyr rolled in the scorched dirt. Wolf ignored the pain and grabbed his bow, but the string was ruined. Luckily the bow itself was made of sturdy Duskwood, and he had extra strings in his pack, which he had stored in a small cave in the side of the hill before he went scouting. He drew his short sword and tried to stand, but he cried out in pain as the shock wore off and his blistered skin split. He fell to the ground writhing in agony.

Casavir was at his side immediately. He took off his ring and put it on Wolf's index finger. "My lady's ring will heal you. Lie still and allow it to work." Without asking he took the boy's short sword from him and turned to the girl, who was staring at him in wide-eyed terror. He spoke in a firm, commanding voice. "Tend to them. Do you have any healing potions?" She stared at the sword in his hand and nodded. He shook his head and said gently, "You have no need to fear me because of your secret, girl. See to them." He turned and jumped over a a large pile of smoldering debris that had been enclosed in the mage's bag then sprinted to where the Luskans would likely be coming from.

Zeta snapped out of her stupor and rubbed her arms and legs, which had been itching fiercely since the paladin had lain upon her. She had two potions left—two potions but three injured. But Wolf was coming around. The ring the paladin put on him glowed softly. The other wolf, poor thing, was no longer rolling in the dirt, but lying on his side whimpering in pain. And there was the ranger, who frightened her more than most men did. He had accosted her once outside the inn while she was on her way back to her room. He had reeked of ale, and he blocked her way. "Where you running off to, sweetheart? Pretty girl like you shouldn't be alone tonight." She had deftly sidestepped him, and when he grabbed her shoulder, a surprising elbow in the ribs allowed her to get to safety. So even as hurt as he was, she didn't trust him.

She instead approached the wolf cautiously. If not for him, she wouldn't have known to grab that bag from the Luskan tart. She smiled at him wistfully, wondering if anyone would ever care for her as much as he cared for that creepy ranger as she poured a few drops of the potion into her hand and held it next to his muzzle. "Drink this." Karnwyr recognized the scent. Bishop had given it to him before when he had been injured. He looked up at her then licked it all out of her hand.

She poured out more slowly until he finished the bottle, watching in awe as the healing magic contained in the potion caused his burned skin and fur to fall away to be replaced by new skin. She wondered if his fur would ever grow back as she steeled herself to tend to the ranger.

The worst damage was to his legs, and it looked like his leathers were stuck to his skin in places. He hadn't been wearing a helmet, and his hood had been down, so the back of his head was also badly burned. But she had nothing to fear from him. He had been groaning when she first went to aid the wolf, but now he lay still as death. She crept closer and put a trembling hand under his nose then gazed in horror and shame on the man she had let die so she could care for an animal. She numbly watched Karnwyr lick him and whimper as he tried to rouse him before he raised his head and gave a long, mournful howl, joined a heartbeat later by another mournful wailing howl. It wasn't until Wolf came up beside her and put his arm around her that she realized the second howl was coming from her.

The other members of their band fared better since the Luskan mage had directed her fireball to strike based on where a location spell revealed her magic bag was. Too late it occurred to her that her thoughtless, angry attack likely cost her the bag and its contents as well, and that her traveling spell book was inside of it. She had a small scroll case on her belt, but she had already used most of its contents. Glyden Natale was not considered one of the most powerful mages of her age in the Hosttower. In fact, if her detractors had witnessed her attack, they would have pointed to this encounter as being more proof that she was dangerously hot-tempered in addition to being rather stupid, increasing the speculation that she could only have gained her current standing in the Hosttower through a combination of nepotism, beauty, and her willingness to bed anyone and perform any act if she thought it would gain her or her mother advancement. She was in truth more suited to be a politician than a mage, but her mother had insisted she develop what limited skill she had while also taking advantage of her daughter's beauty to advance both their standings.

She and her companions slowly approached the granite crag where she had detected the bag's location, and the thief that had taken it, to wait for the fire to burn out But a magical wind had blown up, pushing the fire in their direction with alarming speed, and they scattered. The dark-haired priest thought grimly as she ran gracelessly past him back down the hill (while resisting the urge to trip her as she passed) that at least he had a scapegoat on which to lay the blame for this misadventure. He turned and calmly faced the fire and called on his dark god, summoning a storm to contain it, if not to put it out entirely, so they could concentrate on dealing with the survivors and reclaiming their prize, though he no longer cared if they recaptured the paladin to use as bait for his wife. It was enough that he had proof that the threat caused by Black Garius's misadventure was eliminated.

Hiram got to his feet, thankful he had been wearing chainmail and facing away from the blast, the force of which had nevertheless knocked him over, though they were out of range of the flames. He raised his cudgel for the attack he knew was coming. Mignon and Leather had been on watch behind some rocks, and a moment later they emerged shaken but relatively unharmed. Mignon immediately summoned a _Gust of Wind_ and blew the fire away from them and in the direction it came from, but to her dismay it caught a number of trees as well. Leather grabbed her hand anxiously as a flock of angry ravens flew past. "That hit right where Wolf and Zeta were." He could see the same question that was on his mind written all over her face. Did they dare go check on the others and turn their backs on the Luskans, or should they try to stand their ground and hope for the best.

Casavir answered the question for them as he vaulted over a rock and drew up short. "Where are they?"

They all jumped in surprise, and Mignon let out a shrill scream thinking they were under attack. Fortunately for Casavir she was too tired to summon the energy for another _Burning Hands_ spell, and the flames sputtered impotently an inch from her hands. Hiram recovered his wits first. "Hold, 'tis Sir Casavir! Where did you come from? Do you mean the Luskans? The fireball came from that direction," he pointed to the east, "but they could be anywhere now. They're lookin' for you and your lady-wife to haul you back to their gods-cursed city in chains."

Casavir nodded. "And they had me, but I escaped thanks to your light-fingered companion. One of you must go help the others at once. The boy and Bishop are hurt. The rest of you come with me."

Mignon ran over to the entrance of the small cave where they stored their packs and took turns sleeping. "I should go to them, yes? I don't think I could even summon the energy for a cantrip."

Leather shook out his flail and gave it a crack and picked up his shield. He raised an eyebrow as this caused Casavir to jump, and he held it out to him. "Take my shield, my lord."

Hiram drew his long sword and handed it to Casavir. "Take my sword. I know you can wield it better then I ever could." The wind suddenly shifted again as angry dark clouds gathered, followed shortly by a violent downpour.

Casavir looked around for the source of the magic behind the spell and shouted above the noise of the squall. "Thank you. This is no natural storm. Be ready."

The downpour ended as quickly as it began, though the fire was still raging in the distance. Just then the sound of a wolf's howl followed by a high, keening wail pierced the air. They all turned their heads in alarm in the direction Casavir had come from. "Quickly, the Luskans must have flanked us and are attacking the others. I'll take the lead."

Mignon tossed Leather the pack that contained a healer's kit and their last healing potions. "I will stay here. I'll only hinder you. Gods go with you."

Casavir nodded reluctantly. "I would rather that you go with us and stay safely behind us, but at least stay well inside the cave until we return."

She walked to the entrance of the cave after she watched them go out of her sight, wishing for the tenth time today that she was back at the festhall with her twin Minette. What had she been thinking when she let Leather talk her into accompanying them? It was a chance to practice her spells, yes, but that was not worth this constant danger. Right now the smelliest, most disgusting customer she had ever had to entertain would be preferable to more hiking through the wilderness risking life and limb and getting callouses on her feet. She toyed with her hair nervously as she stooped to enter the cave. And what would she do if the Luskans defeated them and she was left all alone out here? She could never survive the journey back to the Keep alone. She felt so alone, and she looked longingly in the direction they had gone. Perhaps it wasn't too late to catch up with them.

"Well, well. What have we here?" She was startled out of her reverie at a silky-soft, masculine voice on her left and turned to face a young dark-haired man in a plain gray robe. She knew from Wolf and Zeta's description that he was the priest traveling with the Luskan party. He smiled kindly at her as he inched closer. "Are you out here all alone, my pretty?"

He smiled at her, but having been trained to read her customers' intention in their faces as they entered the festhall, she could see the cruelty in his eyes even as he extended a hand to her. She stepped back, screamed, and reached for her walking stick, which she could wield as a last resort, but a few gestures and a softly-whispered, "Sleep" later, he caught her in his arms and lay her on the ground. "What shall I do with you, hmm?" His smile now reflected the cruelty she had detected in her eyes as he bound her hands and kissed her hard then considered the possibilities once they dealt with the others.

Leather and Hiram flanked Casavir on his left and right respectively as they climbed up the rocky hill. Luckily Mignon's spell and the magical storm had cleared the thick smoke from the fire away. They charged into the clearing where Wolf and Zeta were with weapons ready. She was sobbing quietly into the boy's chest as Karnwyr continued his plaintive howl over Bishop's body. Casavir knelt beside him and checked for a pulse then shook his head at the others.

Wolf said hoarsely, "He could be a real ass, but he saved me and Karnwyr. Would've been us two lyin' here if not for him." Zeta gasped at his words and sobbed harder as he tried to comfort her. He whispered, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean it that way, Zeta. It's not your fault. He must've been hurt real bad already. You're not a healer, so how could you have known?"

Leather knelt on the other side of Bishop to confirm that the paladin was right. He shook his head and turned away. But from the position he was now in, he saw something glimmering in a large blackened pile of debris. "Where did all that stuff come from?" His curiosity piqued, he walked over and pushed some of it aside with his foot. Under what looked like it had been a bundle of red silk was a jewel-encrusted dagger that had caught his eye and Casavir's hammer, which he recognized by its dragon hide wrapping on the handle. He knelt beside the pile and pulled it out of the sooty mess gingerly, trying not to get himself filthy and called out to Casavir. "Sir, here is your hammer!" Moving aside a reeking bundle of ruined furs, he found Casavir's shield and Bishop's bow. "There's more here! Where did all this come from?"

Casavir joined him to retrieve them as he succinctly explained how it had been contained in the same pocket dimension crafted into a bag he had been imprisoned in. He returned Leather's shield to him and picked up his own then hung his hammer on his weapon belt and pushed more debris aside. Underneath a pile of gold coins and gems spilling out of a ruined pouch that caught Zeta's attention even in the midst of her despair was the _Rod of Ressurection_ that Lord Nasher had given them when they set off to face the King of Shadows. Casavir snatched it up with a look of triumph. "With this I can bring Bishop back from the brink of death, if the gods are willing."

Hiram looked at him disapprovingly after covering Bishop with his ruined cloak. "But isn't he the one who betrayed the Keep? Beggin' your pardon, Sir, but would it not be a waste of such powerful magic just so we can watch him hang?"

Casavir frowned as he looked down on the ranger and he considered the question. He had promised Bishop he would let him get away in return for his cooperation. Yet wasn't he better off like this? Bishop was finally free as he had always wanted, though he shuddered to think where he was now if he truly was faithless as Dee had feared. Did he have the right to make a life and death decision, and furthermore, was his dislike, no, hate of the ranger coloring his judgment? "You are right, Hiram, but I have reasons to use it beside watching him hang. I will explain later. Let us make haste back to your young sorceress for now. The area around that cave is more defensible to make a stand against the next attack." A woman's scream came to them from down the hill, and he cursed himself for allowing the sorceress to remain behind.

They sped back around the rocks with Hiram falling once. Casavir offered him a hand up and they continued on their way, though Hiram was limping painfully and he struggled to keep up. They cleared the last obstacle and came upon the grisly sight they had dreaded. Two of the Luskan men were kneeling over the sorceress. The bigger of the two was growling at the other, "I said NO witnesses. You can find yourself another sex slave!" as he pulled a dagger from her chest. The one in the gray robe looked on in disgust, muttering about the waste. Hiram shouted something unintelligible in his fury and charged. The big man swore and sprang to his feet while the other man reached into a pouch on his belt as he began calmly singing a chant.

Casavir decided in a heartbeat that the spellcaster was the biggest threat, so he left the other to the baker and he charged him and bashed him twice with his shield to interrupt his spell. An arrow sailed past him and buried itself in the priest's cheek, coming out the other side. He laughed manically and drew a flail to strike at Casavir, who blocked the blow with his shield then followed-up with another shield bash that knocked him back. Casavir swung his hammer and connected solidly with his shoulder then twisted his wrist for another blow. However, if the priest was hurt, he didn't show it as he shifted the flail to his other hand. His only response was the unnerving laughter as he swung at Casavir again and another arrow sailed overhead.

The big man swore and threw a handful of dirt in Hiram's face as it occurred to him that these were undoubtedly the companions of the woman they had just seen him murder. There were at least three of them, including an archer further up the hill. But he had faced greater odds than this when he was still a snot-nosed brat. He knew the paladin was badly hurt when they stuck him in the bag, and the man charging him was limping. He kicked at his opponent's knee to throw him off balance while he was still trying to recover from the dirt in his face then grabbed him when he fell forward, intending to use him as a living shield.

But Hiram's outrage after witnessing what the Luskan pig had done to the helpless girl allowed him ignore the pain as the man kicked his knee and followed with a slashing blow that broke through his chainmail and his gambeson. He had lost his wife and one of his daughters at the hands of the Luskans during the war, and all the healing to that deep wound to his soul was undone by the sight of this Luskan kneeling over Mignon. He became aware he was falling as the man grabbed him. So he used his weight and the momentum of the grab to fall into his opponent, knocking him back and off his feet. He felt a sharp pain in his gut and his shirt felt wet and warm, and a voice in the back of his head told him that was a bad thing. But he had his hands on either end of his cudgel and had gotten it under the man's chin above his gorget. He used all his strength to press hard until he felt a satisfying crack as he broke the man's windpipe. His work done, he collapsed in a heap on top of the dying Luskan.

Casavir fought grimly against the insane Luskan priest. His injuries only seemed to strengthen him, something Casavir had only seen amongst barbarians who smoked dragon pearl resin to help work themselves into a fury. The priest's right arm was useless, and Wolf had managed to sink another arrow into his thigh to the fletchings, but still he fought on, and it was all that Casavir could do to interrupt him from casting his deadly spells. Still, Casavir had nearly a foot advantage in height and was a seasoned warrior. Yet when the priest finally fell, it was at the hand of the young tiefling, who had plunged the golden dagger she had recovered from the Luskan mage's ruined bag into his spine. Casavir was about to make sure the priest was dead, but the girl spun and finished him by neatly slashing his throat. Casavir whispered, "Thank you." and turned to look for another opponent. But both Luskans were on their way to face their dark gods.

He surveyed their surroundings warily as Wolf ran down the hill carrying Bishop's bow and joined him. "The mage is still here somewhere."

Zeta nodded. "I'm on it." She sped off through what remained of the brush, slipping from shadow to shadow in search of her. Unless the wench had made herself invisible, that red dress would really stand out now, and Zeta was looking forward to payback.

Casavir turned his attention to their injured. Leather was sprawled on the ground holding Mignette in his arms, his tears falling on her pale face. Wolf shouted to get his attention. The boy was kneeling beside the baker's body, who was lying on top of the big Luskan. A large pool of blood attested to the seriousness of their injuries. Casavir rushed over to help him, but once he turned him over, he could see by the gut wound alone that it was too late. "He managed to take the Luskan with him."

Wolf looked up at Casavir, the eyes of an old man who has seen too much death incongruous in his boy's face with its slightly pimpled skin and the faintest shadow of a mustache. He looked far older than his sixteen years. His voice cracked as he spoke. "I can't believe he's gone. I don't think I'll ever be able to look at a loaf of bread or a cookie without thinking of us sneakin' down to the kitchen, and him always havin' something ready for us. What am I gonna tell his son? He was so lookin' forward to seein' him get his sergeant badge. It's all my fault. I never thought this could happen. And Min's gone too? What am I gonna say to her sister?"

Casavir removed the rod from his belt as the boy fought back tears. "I can't promise this will work. The charges might have been spent when we fought the King of Shadows." He touched the end of the rod to Hiram's forehead and spoke the command word. A few heartbeats later, the rod began to glow white, and the light traveled to Hiram's forehead then spread to enclose his body in a shimmering cocoon.

After a few more heartbeats it dissipated, and Hiram gasped and sat up, staring around him.

"What happened? I was fighting with that Luskan goon then the next thing I know, I was floating somewhere near a gray wall." He looked down at the healthy belly showing through his damaged armor. Wolf threw his arms around him, crying and laughing at the same time, and Hiram returned the hug.

Casavir strode over to Leather and Mignon. Leather looked up at him hopefully, his voice desperate. "Please, can you bring her back too?"

"I will try, but I honesty cannot remember how many of its charges we used. But my lady made provisions to raise us if any of our company fell, and I promise you that if the rod doesn't work, we will take her to the Prior in Neverwinter. I think you've earned the right to be considered part of our company." He knelt and repeated the process, and in a few minutes Mignon's eyes opened and she screamed as she tried to strike with her bound hands until she realized she was among friends. Leather held her until she calmed down, then they both grabbed Casavir and hugged him gratefully.

He broke away after accepting their thanks, blushing and telling them that they should thank the gods that allowed his intervention instead. "Let us go to Bishop, and then we must return to Crossroads Keep. My wife has been abducted! "

Casavir knelt beside the ranger's body and touched the rod to his forehead as he had done before. The others gathered around him, and Karnwyr watched him expectantly. But nothing happened. Casavir frowned and whispered a prayer to Kelemvor, the god of the dead then tried again. But again, nothing happened. He sat back on his heels and sighed. "Either the rod is spent, or the gods have declined to allow him to return. You see, he made me promise that I would let him leave if he helped me escape the Luskans. Yet if I bring him back to the Keep, will Sir Nevalle, or more importantly, Lord Nasher, care about my vow?" He ran his hand through his hair as he thought. "If we raise him in Neverwinter, the most I shall be able to do for him is testify at his trial that he was compelled to betray us because of a geas. I think...he's better off if we bury him here, in that cave. He's in the wilds that he loves. If we take his body back and don't resurrect him, he'll be sent to lie in the Tomb of the Betrayers." He added to Karnwyr, "I am sorry." He wasn't sure if the wolf understood him, but he replied with another long, sad howl.

So with Wolf's help, he carried Bishop back down the hill, wrapped in their cloaks. They lay his body in a niche in the back of the cave. Wolf lay Bishop's bow and undamaged quiver beside his body, Zeta put two gold coins over his eyes, and they closed the niche off with stones, ending by saying a prayer to their own gods and another asking the god of the dead to deal with him justly. With nothing more to add, they moved back out of the cave, but Karnwyr sat beside the rocks, whimpering at them as if he still might awaken his bonded. The Luskans were not afforded a burial. They were hauled into a gully, and Casavir asked Tyr's forgiveness as he and Wolf covered them lightly with stones for not caring if the ravens circling made a meal of them, though he did grudgingly offer a prayer to Kelemvor for them.

They shared a solemn meal of dried meat made into a stew with roots that Wolf found, prepared by Hiram, who was vowing he would never leave his kitchen in search of adventure again. Despite the healing, he still favored his right knee. Casavir filled them in on what had happened in the Mere up to his wife's abduction. Zeta returned from her search, looking annoyed that she had to report the mage was nowhere to be found. She sat on a rock and folded her arms across her chest, snorting in disgust. "I even watched where her bag was thinking she would try to get back to it, but she never did, so I dug through what was left of it to see if there was anything we could salvage. I found a burned book I think was her spell book. If it wasn't ruined then, it is now. I made sure of that. We can divide up what little else I found. Spoils of her bein' a Luskan bitch."

Casavir thanked her as he accepted his ring back from Wolf, who had forgotten he still had it. "She may yet be lurking somewhere, but I do not believe she would be so foolish as to attack a group this size. I actually pity her being alone out here, especially if that was her only spell book, and I wouldn't be at all surprised if she surrenders to us tonight. However, it's more likely that she used a teleportation spell or ring to make her way to safety once the fire moved towards them and abandoned her companions to their fates. I remember them talking about meeting a ship in Highcliff." He looked up at the sky. "The hour grows late. I am anxious to return to the Keep as soon as possible to see if any of our friends made it back and send out search parties for my wife. We will take watches in teams and leave at first light."

He was interrupted by a familiar neigh in the distance. He gasped in astonishment, "Could it be..." He stood and shouted, "Thunder!" and was rewarded with another excited neigh. His smile was brilliant. The only thing that could have made him happier would have been if his wife should appear on his horse's back. "He must have sensed my danger and broke out of the stable." The horse found them within half an hour with Casavir and him calling to one another from time to time, finally running right up to Casavir and whinnying triumphantly. He threw his arms around the horse's neck, giving thanks to Tyr for showing him the way. After he examined the horse's hooves and checked him for injuries before he led him to a nearby stream to drink and graze. He led him back to their camp as Mignon and Leather took first watch so the others could sleep.

Elanee and Daeghun rode on towards the fire. She had precious few spells left, so she didn't dare cast them until they were close enough to the fire for maximum effect. Daeghun nudged her with his knees and pointed to a moving patch of red ahead which stood out in stark contrast to the blackened landscape. Its shape suggested a human female. Elanee turned that way to see if the red was worn by someone who needed help or someone who was responsible for the fire. As they drew near, the woman answered Elanee's question as she fished a scroll out of her case, began to read it and pointed at Daeghun. The ranger was thrown off Elanee's back. He felt the dark energy of the spell pass over him, and he knew with certainty that only his age and experience had saved him from the woman's murderous intentions. The woman tried to grab Elanee's mane.

Elanee whinnied loudly, reared up and kicked at the woman, knocking her back as Daeghun got to his feet. She had resumed her elven form before the woman recovered her air if not her dignity at failing as a mage and as a horse thief. Daeghun jumped up and nocked two arrows, aiming at the woman as Elanee began chanting in ancient druidic. The woman then sent bolts of energy at her. Elanee's spell was faster, and Daeghun fired two warning arrows that struck the ground on either side of the woman to disrupt her spell. She shrieked, "I surrender!" as Elanee's spell took effect and she found she was rooted to the ground.

Elanee called upon Silvanus to send her another tempest to drown the fire, which had spread into the hills and followed up by summoning elementals to find the fire and put it out according to their own abilities. Daeghun shook his head at extent of the devastation. There was so much healing to be done to the land from the King of Shadows' dark influence that had turned everything it reached to rot. His ear twitched as a horse neighed in the distance, but he didn't allow that to distract him from the mage. Most people couldn't tell one horse from another, but he was a ranger, and he could distinguish the nuances in the calls of different animals as most people could distinguish between voices of their own kind. And he was certain that horse was his son-in-law's.

Elanee was listening to a raven that perched on her shoulder. The bird flew off, and she turned to Daeghun, looking angrier than he had ever seen her. "He says that he saw this woman send the fireball into the woods, and she killed six of his clan." The raven called to them and circled. Soon it was joined by several more. Elanee strode up to the mage purposefully as more ravens gathered in the burned trees around them and spoke coolly, though there was a slight edge to her voice. "My friends here say you're the one responsible for all this." She gestured at the ravens. "Don't deny it, One Eye saw the whole thing. He said you sent the fire at a group of humans that you weren't even fighting. Your wanton act killed six of their clan and hundreds of trees and other lives, and you will pay for them, not by rotting in a Neverwintan gaol, but by giving back to the land."

Daeghun was momentarily alarmed having encountered druidic high magic before, but in his heart he knew she was right. He watched silently, feeling the tension in his back echoing the tension in his bowstring as he aimed at the mage.

Elanee muttered an incantation. It sounded like Elvish, but it was a dialect that Daeghun wasn't familiar with, and he knew it must be more of the ancient druidic language. Elanee began to glow, red at first, then orange, yellow, green, blue, indigo and finally white, her chanting growing more intense with each pulsing, swirling color.

The mage looked terrified but also furious, and she was calculating the seconds until she could move again and cast a retaliatory fireball, her last spell, which should be enough to take out both of them so she could get away to Highcliff, where they had a ship waiting. She thought she should be able to move by now, yet she was still rooted to the spot though she could feel the paralysis leaving her arms. But at the same time as the weirdly-colored druid witch finished her chanting, a stiffness rose from her feet up her body and finally into her raised arms. At the same time she realized to her horror that she was growing taller, stretching towards the sky, as tall as a tree. And then there was nothing but a slender willow tree where the mage had been. Already branches were growing out from her upraised arms and fresh leaves were sprouting along them. The ravens circled her, cawing raucously in approval before landing on the tree and claiming her as their new home.

Elanee slumped to the ground as the spell ended, and Daeghun ran to her side. She smiled tiredly up at him. "Elder Naevan was right. I am his equal now." She touched his cheek then went into a faint.

Daeghun checked her breathing then lay her back and lifted her legs above her heart until she came around . He offered her water, which she drank greedily and then allowed him to help her stand. He finally spoke. "I've not seen anything like that in many years." Elanee looked exhausted, and if his eyes weren't deceiving him, a bit older too. It was as if she had given up some of her life force to power the spell.

Elanee took his hand and led him to the tree, admiring her god's handiwork. "Nor shall you again, nor shall you speak of it to anyone. It's ancient druidic magic that normally only the most powerful druids can cast. But doing so comes at a price." She peered into the distance. "Did you hear that? I swear that was Casavir's horse."

Daeghun nodded, being familiar with her admonition, for he had known Elder Naevan for many years and had witnessed something similar before. "Yes, I thought that was Thunder earlier. I think the horse is searching for Casavir, so I suppose we will find him at the ruin. Are you able to go on? Bevil Starling's squad is not far, but I can carry you if you can't walk. "

Elanee chuckled. "Oh Daeghun, that means he's still alive! Yes, he's searching for him through their bond. And I sense Naloth too coming to me from the north. I think my companions must have gotten back to the Keep somehow, and they're in search of the rest of us. I'll ask the ravens to find the Greycloaks and lead us to them, and then we can rescue Casavir."

One of the ravens landed and followed hopping alongside them. Daeghun looked down at the bird. He could tell he was young, but he met the ranger's scrutiny fearlessly before he leaped into the air and came to rest on Daeghun's shoulder. Daeghun smiled slightly. "Well met, brother of the forest." The raven cawed back as if announcing he was pleased to meet Daeghun too.

Elanee smiled at Daeghun and patted his arm fondly. "I think he will make a fine companion for you, if you will have him." The raven cawed in agreement.

Bevil signaled a halt and watched the orange glow in the trees in the distance. "That's odd, there hasn't been a cloud in the sky. Couldn't be from a lightning strike."

Jenns, the messenger sent by Kana, rode up alongside him. "Yeah, Sergeant. Did you see that flash? More like mage fire than anything natural. Wasn't there a sorceress with the Captain? But Captain Khelgar said she was dead for sure."

Bevil grimaced, still trying to get used to the idea of the dwarven monk being the captain now in place of Dee, and so quickly it didn't seem decent. They had decided to press on once word reached them that survivors had returned to the Keep and that theirs was now considered a recovery mission. As they watched, black clouds gathered in the distance. "Lightning could've traveled ahead of the storm, but that came up too fast. And Daeghun's not back yet from scouting either. That really worries me." He turned to face the rest of the squad. "Let's move out. If that fire comes this way, we have to be ready to cut a fire line and dig trenches to take cover in." They all were equipped with either a small folding shovel or axes or both, which eased Bevil's mind. He signaled the squad on, thankful that his wife was miles behind them with the second squad. After a short break, they moved on, with one of the other scouts blowing his horn every so often to help Daeghun track them.

Casavir had assigned the watches, and Zeta slept fitfully waiting for her turn to come because he decided that the two of them should take the second watch. She watched from the shadows while he patrolled the perimeter of their camp, and then he came over and joined her. They didn't speak for awhile though he caught her casting furtive, nervous glances at him. He finally broke the silence. "I meant what I said. I understand that some would despise you if they knew what...your heritage. But I've always believed that a person should be judged by their actions, not by who her parents are. I consider Neeshka a friend now, though it wasn't always that way."

The girl craned her neck to look up at the tall paladin. "I didn't know nothin' about it 'til Neeshka told me. My ma was a Luskan slave who belonged to a Hosttower mage, and I never knew who or what my father was. The master used her for his own pleasure and passed her around to his guests and clients like she was nothin' more than another appetizer. But...I guess I shoulda known." She bit her lip then pushed her greasy hair back from her forehead, revealing two stubs of scarred bone right along the surface of her scalp. "My ma said the master ordered 'em cut off when I was a babe, and I have a scar above my backside too. Told my ma I would be more valuable that way. But I forgot about it. I never met another tiefling until I met Neeshka."

He put a comforting hand on her shoulder, but she flinched. "It must have been a hard life. I am sorry, but I swear by Tyr I will keep your secret. Where is your mother now?"

She rubbed her arms and looked at him ruefully. "You make me itchy." She looked up into his deep blue eyes as he apologized and saw the kindness there. "I'm sorry I couldn't save your friend." She began to cry and he comforted her as much as he could considering she couldn't stand to be touched. Her story poured out of her, years of backbreaking hard work starting when she was very young then trying to remain out of sight as much as possible when her mother was summoned for her other duties. She told Casavir how the mage made a passing comment when she was about thirteen that she had inherited her mother's looks, and he sold her virginity to one of his superiors in the Hosttower within the year, and after that he felt free to use her as he used her mother.

"That was just before the war." She continued, telling him her mother hid her when the Luskan forces were retreating, knowing they would murder their slaves so they could travel more quickly and wanting to leave none alive to be captured by the Neverwintan forces, for they all knew too much about their masters and the inner workings of Luskan to be allowed to live. She waited until the Greycloaks took her mother's body away and followed to see them bury it in a mass grave with other dead from the war. "I stole food when I needed to after that and found places to hide and sleep. One man said he would take me to the orphanage, but...he used me too then threw me out with a few coppers. Then Wolf found me and brought me to where his gang was staying."

Casavir smiled at her gently. "I understand now why you shy away whenever I touch you. Other than the itching."

That actually got a smile out of her for a moment. "I see why miss Neeshka likes you. I am sorry about your friend. If I hadn't been so afraid of him, I might have gotten to him in time."

He sighed softly. "Do not blame yourself. From what you said, he gave you reason to fear him. Perhaps this was the gods' will." He looked up at a raven that landed on a nearby stump and cawed at him. There was more than animal intelligence in the bird's eyes, and he nodded at it. It cocked its head at him then flew off. Casavir stretched. "I must make another round." Zeta nodded and slipped between two large rocks.

He hadn't gone more than halfway around the perimeter when he heard something faint in the distance that sounded like a hunter's horn. He paused in mid step to be certain then ran back to the camp. He had seen a horn among Wolf's things while he was looking for a bowstring in his pack.

Zeta whispered excitedly, "Did you hear something?"

Casavir nodded at her as he rushed into the cave and grabbed the boy's pack, dumping it out without ceremony. He found the horn and ran back outside before Wolf had time to sit up sleepily. He would have thought it was a strange dream except for the evidence of his pack's contents on the cave floor beside him.

Casavir walked a few feet away from the cave then blew one long and two short notes on the horn loudly. He took a deep breath then blew it again and again as his new companions awoke and cautiously looked out of the cave. He was rewarded finally by the other horn, sounding closer this time and repeating his signal. He blew his again in acknowledgment as the others joined him and announced, "That has to be a rescue party from Crossroad Keep!"

Casavir sat up with a start. Tendays passed and turned into a month and there was another approaching without word of his wife. It was as if she had fallen off the face of Toril. He had taken his things and moved them into his old room, not being able to bear sleeping in their bed without her. Kana had even suggested that Khelgar should take over the Captain's suite, but the monk declined, declaring he would keep his old room until the monastery was finished. The worst part was the dreams, which haunted his sleep with increasing frequency. Typically they were memories of lying with her, and he would awaken feeling ashamed drenched with sweat and go wash himself. Tonight's was different, and he tossed in his bed until he finally gave up returning to sleep and got dressed.

He walked through the Keep until he found Wolf's room, in the back of the Keep near the garden. Casavir knocked forcefully, feeling foolish for awakening the boy. Yet he felt compelled by the dream. "Wolf, it's Casavir. I must speak with you."

After a minute Wolf opened the door, yawning and stretching. "Somethin' wrong, sir?"

Casavir put his hand on his shoulder. "Indeed, I fear something is terribly wrong. I need you to lead me back to that cave where we buried Bishop. I can't explain now, but I will on the way. I think my wife sent me a message in a dream, and we must get to him as soon as possible. I am off to put together a team and gather the provisions. Meet me in the bailey at first light."


	51. What Dreams May Come

Chapter 51 What Dreams May Come

Usual Disclaimers: Most of the characters in this story are owned by a whole lot of other people and not me, other than a bear and paladin-lovin' ranger and an occasional NPC. Also, some of the dialog is paraphrased from MotB. Reviews, concrit, suggestions, and advice always appreciated.

Rashemen:

Dee smiled sweetly at the pale man standing next to the coffin, sweating despite the coolness of the afternoon sun. "Your master keeps his coffin locked from the inside you say? I bet Kaji here could find a way to open it." The homoculus, always up for a challenge, squeaked his agreement and eagerly flew down to examine the mechanism, which proved no obstacle for his long, slender fingers. Dee watched him work for a few heartbeats until she heard the click that indicated the mechanism was open. The man's arrogant smirk vanished and mouth fell open as well. Without another word and in one fluid motion Dee kicked open the coffin lid and plunged her long sword into the unsuspecting vampire's chest while Cillian was keeping a wary eye on the creature's thrall. Her companions looked on in shock at her sudden act of violence, as did the thrall. The snarl in her voice reflected her utter disgust. "Filthy blood-suckers."

"Y...you murdered him!," he sputtered. The thrall overcame his shock, drew his sword, and tried too late to come to his master's defense, but Okku and Cillian's claws and teeth made short work of him.

She grimly pondered his outburst for a heartbeat as she watched the sun's rays work on the corpse. "No, someone else did that long ago. I just finished it. Gann, some fire, if you please." Okku dragged the thrall's body to join his master in the coffin, then Dee stepped back as the shaman called down a pillar of flame to strike the coffin, immolating the remains. They had to wait for sundown anyway for the portal to the shadow realm to reveal itself, so after the ashes cooled, Kaelyn said a prayer over the remains and sprinkled them with holy water, and then scattered the ashes to the four winds to ensure the creature would not regenerate itself eventually. And now there was one less supplicant ahead of them waiting for an audience with the Sleeping Coven.

Dee looked at the sun to judge the time. "Let's get some rest." As a chilly breeze blew across the beach, Dee wrinkled her nose as the stench of rotting corpses floating in the lake reached her. At least the scent no longer made her gag. Apparently the sea monster lurking in the distance wasn't able or willing to eat all of the dead, and they all shared an unspoken thought that these must be the corpses of unsuccessful supplicants or unsuccessful looters looking for Imaskari treasure in the ancient city.

Gann and Kaji carefully picked through the packs of two bodies that were close enough to shore to reach and found typical adventurer's supplies, including bottles of the strongest healing potions. Gann set those aside to divide amongst his companions. Safiya raised her hood and snuggled into her cloak and pulled out her spell book while Kaelyn took the time to pray to Ilmater for their leader that she would yet see the light and join her crusade to bring down the Wall of the Faithless. Okku and Cillian stood watch over Dee as she curled up in her cloak on the ground, pulling one edge over her face to block out the autumn light. She still wouldn't speak of what happened before they left Mulsantir, as if refusing to talk about it somehow negated it, and Safiya in particular was worried that her stoic front was only a flimsy bandage covering a festering sore that was bound to burst open, and probably at the worst possible time.

Dee had been settling in despite herself. She and Safiya visited Azim and Mavish for tea at their stall in the market regularly, whether they had something to buy or sell or not. Determined to beat this curse, she focused on buying Midwinter gifts for her friends back home. Witnessing the couple going through their regular routine of friendly bickering while they arranged their merchandise in their shop, or sharing casual touches and whispered endearments they thought she didn't notice made her miss Casavir all the more, and wish he could be here with them. Watching them was like putting her heart in a vice, but at the same time oddly comforting. They were becoming friends, and the friendship included Safiya, who told Dee in confidence that she thought their eldest daughter was a likely candidate for admission to her mother's academy, once it was safe enough to return there.

When they were in Mulsantir and Dee wasn't at the _The Veil Theater _where they stayed, or at the _Temple of the Three_ or the _Temple of Kelemvor _for prayers_,_ she was at the _Ice Troll Lodge_. She finally had won the right to be accepted as a junior member, though that gave her no more status than the beardless boys. It took her four tries, but she finally beat the giant Forovan at arm wrestling after Yulia's whispered suggestion of challenging him to use his left hand. Dee didn't bother telling him she was ambidextrous. It took her only two times to pass Yulia's ice bath challenge, though it took her hours to get the feeling back in her feet afterwards. Lena's test, facing a bare-knuckle gauntlet of four of the lodge's members, was easier because her companions were allowed to cast beneficial spells to help her beforehand, while for Yulia's challenge she had to remove her enchanted jewelry and stand in the ice bath in her small clothes while Yulia dispelled any enchantments that had been cast on her.

But she fit in there and was making friends. The berserkers were not as superstitious or judgmental as most Rashemi, in her opinion. There were no rangers among their current members, and they looked forward to her leading a hunting party once she was free of the curse. No one there batted an eye at Cillian or Okku, her other constant companions. Two of the other members were smiths, something she had precious little time to pursue since arriving in Mulsantir, but they spent an evening sharing stories of the forge with her. Their leader Jurak remarked one night after slapping her heartily on the back that it was a pity that she was already married and also that she was cursed or she would make a fine wife for one of their brothers, even if he did still think her hair was too pale, "Like a ghost's." He ended with the refrain she heard often, "And you're too skinny. Come, eat something!" as Yulia grunted in agreement and thrust a bowl of stew, heavy with venison, beets, potatoes and cream and a slab of the hearty dark local bread into her hands.

They even accepted Safiya, and she accepted their good-natured teasing about being a puny Thayan. Dee was settling in, though with shame it occurred to her one night while she and Safiya were trading shots of vodka with Lena that getting back to Casavir was no longer constantly on her mind. Though she constantly bought gifts for him, she had steeled herself to accept the possibility that he was already standing beside the gate of the Grey City waiting for her, and she had accepted that she would soon join him. She had resigned herself to spending the rest of what remained of her life in Rashemen. She still had her dreams of him to comfort herself, though Gann voiced his concern more than once that she was spending too much time dreaming.

The inexorable Hunger drained her over time, though she found that by forcing herself to resist it that instead of the terrifying hulking ogreish brute it had been when she was first cursed, it had been reduced to an annoyance akin to the telthor badger outside the lodge that growled at her whenever she entered. The Hunger had greatly diminished, yet it was not gone, and it was still killing her, albeit much more slowly. However, they had sent so many trapped spirits in Shadow Mulsantir on to the afterlife that it grew increasingly hard to suppress the hunger there, for she needed the spirits to serve as a catalyst for the dead god's power. The solution, which had been revealed to her when she first put the spirits of the scribes to rest in Myrkul's temple, was simple; she let it feed off her own spirit.

She was terrified to try it at first, but the pain was becoming unbearable. If not for her ring, which slowly healed the damage the Hunger caused, she would have already been dead. But it had worked, and she had done it again since then. It satiated the Hunger completely, but it left her feeling dazed and clumsy for a while afterwards, as if she had to sacrifice a fragment of the knowledge and skill she had gained over her life. But that was preferable to letting the Hunger win.

Thus it was two days before they set out in the witches' barge for the Sunken City that she was once again feeling so drained that she was afraid to go to sleep for fear that she might not awaken (and was adamant that Myrkul would not win that way). Unable to find so much as a telthor squirrel outside of the city, she let it feed off herself again. The results were better this time. The Hunger satiated, it replenished her own spirit energy, and she almost felt like herself again, though she knew it wouldn't last for long. Another benefit was that now the Hunger seemed a small thing, no more than an annoying insect buzzing around her.

But to her dismay she found during a sparring session that she couldn't remember at first an overhand/crossing sword maneuver that she had done many times, and one of the beardless boys she was sparring with beat her. And later she couldn't remember the name of the youngest Lannon daughter back in West Harbor, who Yulia reminded her of. It was frustrating, yet the Hunger was sated for now, and she thought that a fair enough trade, until she awoke early the next morning with a fierce cramping pain that made her double over when she got out of bed and tried to stand. And as she looked down and saw how much blood was soaking her nightshirt, she went into a faint.

She didn't remember much of what happened after that. Cillian, alerted through their bond, was at her side at once and quickly awakened Safiya, who shared Lienna's bed with her. Safiya clapped her hands, the command to operate the permanent magelights Lienna had installed in her rooms. She recoiled in horror at the blood and began to cast a defensive spell, but seeing they weren't under attack she jumped out of bed and went in search of Kaelyn. But she remembered on the way to her room that Kaelyn was back in Shadow Mulsantir alone trying to find a way through the _Betrayer's Gate_. Safiya awakened the shaman as well as Magda, but Gann decided that other than casting a healing spell, this was beyond his expertise and asked her to go to the witches for help.

Safiya pulled on a simple robe over her nightdress and left him and Magda with Dee and set out with Okku. But she didn't trust that she would find help from the witches, one of whom still sneeringly referred to her as the Thayan whenever she had to go to the temple with Dee. The hour was very early, nearly dawn, as Safiya instead told Okku they were going to the lodge to awaken the healer Yulia, who threw on her clothing and was ready to go with her a few minutes later. On the way back to the theater she met Mavish, setting out for her customary early morning walk with her eldest daughter to greet the sunrise before starting their day's work. She listened to Safiya with alarm and accompanied them back to the theater.

After a brief examination, Yulia sadly informed them that there was nothing to be done, but she thought the worst was over and she didn't seem to be in danger of bleeding to death, thanks to the healing from Gann's spell and Dee's ring. Gann thoughtlessly asked how it could be she hadn't known of her condition, which caused Dee to utter something between a sob and a strangled cry and earned him a punch in the arm from Yulia along with a terse lecture on the peculiar physiology of the female warrior.

Dee asked defensively, "But how? I never missed takin' Sand's disgusting potion." Yulia suggested that she might have taken some other potion or herbal remedy that neutralized it. Mavish patted her hand and tried to offer what cold comfort she could to Dee with assurances that this happens to many women, adding that she had lost two herself and reminding her that she was young. But with no end in sight for the curse and her husband most likely dead, her words of comfort sounded hollow even to herself.

Mavish and Yulia whispered together outside of the room as they left later that morning that this might even be a blessing because now she wouldn't have to worry about the effect Myrkul's curse might have on an innocent child. Mavish's daughter paused and asked them in wide-eyed fear whether such a child might have even become possessed by some remnant of the dead god before it was born. And who would know until the evil manifested itself? They made nervous gestures to ward off evil as they walked down the stairs.

Safiya, Okku, and Gann took turns sitting with her through the day while Cillian paced the room irritably, frustrated that he couldn't attack the thing that attacked his bonded. Dee faced the wall to end any discussion and slept deeply and dreamlessly, aided by a poppy tincture that Yulia had left. Kaelyn returned later intending to accompany them to the Sunken City and suggested that they wait a few days. But they all knew Dee didn't have the luxury of days to recover. Already the hard-won energy was waning.

Dee muttered, "No. We will go. The journey takes days, and I can get plenty of rest on the barge. I'll be fine by the time we get to the Sunken City. Don't worry about me." None of them believed her, and they worried about her anyway, but they couldn't break through the shell she built around herself. She changed the subject whenever any of them tried to draw her out as they traveled across the length of the lake and spent most of her waking time either in prayer or sitting between Okku and his "little brother" Cillian silently gazing into the distance.

Luckily they found when they arrived at the ruins that there was an abundance of telthor beasts along the lake shore, though she didn't need to deal with the Hunger just yet. Evening came, and Okku alerted the others when he spotted the first traces of the shimmering portal. Dee muttered wryly that some god was watching out for her finally as they persuaded one after another of the supplicants ahead of them to leave, only having to fight a group of Uthraki beasts, which they did gladly. Okku chased off a group of telethors, who fled before their lord's wrath. The rest of the supplicants were tired of waiting anyway and complained that the Coven hadn't been admitting anyone for tendays. It was easy to persuade them to leave without too much deceit or coercion on their parts. Dee warned an Ilithid with a straight face that they had passed a squad of Githyanki on their way there. The creature had to believe her; the description he could read of his enemies in her mind was simply too accurate to do otherwise.

The hagspawn guards watched them silently as they worked the crowd and greeted them with bemused expressions when they arrived at the door. One leaned over to the others and paid him a few coins, apparently having won a bet. They let them inside as a reward for clearing away the crowd of annoying supplicants. But the winner of the bet leaned down and confided as they walked through the door, "Do not think this guarantees the Slumbering Coven will see you. Speak to The Mistress inside; the Coven speaks through her, and it is she who will bring you to them if they agree."

As they walked from room to room past more hagspawn guards, some of whom were merely ugly while others were painfully hideous, Dee was struck by how unique Gann truly was. What was it about him that made him different from the rest of his kind? She blushed as he caught her studying him. Gann leaned close and said, "I have dreamed of this city many times. It is somewhat disturbing to meet the reality. Yet I feel I will find answers here to my questions, the least of which is why I am so devastatingly handsome compared to my brethren. I know you are wondering this as well. You don't have to deny it." Dee snorted, Safiya rolled her eyes and Okku resisted the urge to bite him. Kaelyn merely prayed for him that he would learn humility.

They met no resistance from any of the many guards they passed until they entered another room and faced an elderly woman standing across from them before the next door barring their way. She was flanked by more hagspawn guards. Dee couldn't tell whether she was a hag or not, but she didn't look friendly. She used her best courtier's voice and bowed low before her. "You must be The Mistress? I am Dee Farlong, and I would respectfully request an audience with the Slumbering Coven."

The woman tried to look impassive, but there was something—fear, disgust, loathing—in her eyes, and it was echoed in her voice. "Stop! _You_ will go no further. They know who and_ what_ you are and the danger you bring here. The Coven saw that you would come in their collective dream, and that is why they have barred everyone from entrance. They will not see you!"

Dee tried to keep the desperation out of her voice. "Please, if you know what I am, you know how short my time is. I must speak with the Coven and learn what they told two women, Lienna and Nefris. One was a Red Wizard, and the other her twin but dressed all in white. They came here months ago. Whatever they were told led them to bring me to Rashemen. Lienna was to help free me from this curse, but she and Nefris were both murdered before she could tell me their plan. Please, I must speak with the Coven." Now she did sound desperate as she pleaded, but she no longer cared.

Gann stepped up beside her and scowled darkly at the woman. "I will not leave until I speak with the hags as well. They have the answers I seek regarding my mother and why I was cast out alone into the wild."

The woman regarded Gann with a look of utter disdain for a moment then smirked at him, her words dripping with venom. "Oh, don't worry. I think you will have your questions about your mother answered soon enough, terrible hagspawn." Without another word she made a few gestures and the floor fell out from under them as Safiya shouted a warning too late.

They tumbled down a flight of stairs and hit the floor in a room lit by torchlight. The overpowering stench of rotting flesh and fetid water wafted through the dimly lit room. Okku got to his feet first, followed by the others. Dee patted Cillian to comfort him. "Yes, I know it smells bad, love." They looked around in the murk. There was a door at the top of the stairs they had fallen down, but it was now magically sealed, and neither Safiya nor Gann and Kaelyn in turn were able to dispel it. Safiya activated the light spell on the crystal atop her staff and cast mage light on Kaelyn's and Gann's helms; Dee removed the cover that shielded the enchanted coin fastened to her leather helm that Sand and Grobnar had created. Now they could see more than a few feet.

There was nothing to do but try to find some way out of this place, so they set out down the first corridor that wasn't blocked by water or rubble. Footsteps coming down a passageway told them they weren't alone in their prison. As they traveled down the winding corridors, they encountered the first of several desperate groups of fellow captives. They learned this place was called _The Skein, _and that this was where those who threatened or displeased the Coven in some way were sent. Apparently no one had found a way out. Some of those they encountered were clearly adventurers; others were hagspawn who had caused the Coven's displeasure and earned banishment there. Some were sympathetic and even helpful; others noted the fine armor, weapons, and other gear Dee and her companions carried and attacked to try to get it for themselves, but only succeeding in joining the corpses that littered the structure.

It was difficult to know if they weren't walking in circles. Dee's direction sense failed her here, and Okku was at a loss too. Kaelyn finally suggested they find a way to mark the way they had gone, and Safiya grinned and produced a few pieces of chalk from her magic bag where she kept many of her spell components. They also encountered a variety of elementals who also seemed to have been driven mad by their confinement, though Safiya was at a loss to explain how they got there in the first place. They nearly always attacked and left behind a strange glowing residue when they were destroyed. Safiya collected some of the residue in empty flasks to take it to study later, and they used some to mark where they had been when they ran out of chalk.

Many of the captives had clearly lost their minds as a result of their hopeless confinement. As they traveled, retracing their steps at times because the passage they were in became flooded or blocked by rubble, their one constant companion was the eerie disembodied voice of a woman coming from somewhere in the structure. She was clearly insane as well. She sang loudly to herself, cackled madly, and shrieked abruptly in the middle of her mad song. The verses of eating the flesh of her lover, which she found "too salty" was disturbing enough. What was even more unnerving was her periods of silence. They were all on edge. With the way sounds echoed off the marble walls and water, locating her was difficult. The woman would grow quiet for long minutes, perhaps hours, before resuming her mad song or uttering another piercing shriek. Even Okku jumped whenever she did, and he grumbled that he would like to take her throat in his teeth.

Dee paused as the woman began singing again as if hearing her for the first time and murmured, "That poor woman." She suddenly was overcome by tears; it was as if a dam had burst, releasing all the grief built up over the previous days. Gann frowned, thinking that this was the worst possible time for their leader to lose her nerve. Cillian nuzzled her and Safiya put her arms around her and drew her head to her shoulder and let her cry as the others stood guard anxiously, expecting an imminent attack. After a few minutes she composed herself and said in a barely audible whisper, "Listen to her song. The poor woman, she knows what it's like to lose her love and her child. I need to help her or set her free from her misery."

A few helpful people they encountered had found a fairly defensible place to hole up, safe enough except when they had to go out and scavenge for supplies or food. Dee didn't want to think about what they were forced to eat to survive. They warned them to watch out for the madwoman, or rather mad hag, who they said was called, "Gulk'aush." The hag had apparently committed some grievous crime against her sisters of the Coven years ago and been banished there as punishment. They were warned that she kept to her lair in the center of the structure except for when she wanted to feed. One of them hissed as he looked around with almost palpable fear, "We think when she grows quiet is when she goes to hunt, and just sayin' her name is enough to summon her."

One of the men told them a mage who had been trapped there rambled on about his theory that what he called 'scary devices' controlled the flow of water into the city. Safiya tapped her chin in thought and interrupted him. "_Scary_ devices? That makes no sense. He didn't by chance say _Imaskari _ devices?"

The man thought about it for a moment before nodding his head in the affirmative. "Aye, 'Imaskari devices' was what he said. He thought if he could get 'em workin' the water would drain and we might be able to find a hidden way out. But he left tendays ago and hasn't been back. Either he found a way out, or..." They all knew what the "or" was as the air was pierced by the mad hag's scream.

Safiya was the only one who didn't jump at the scream, as she was that deep in thought. "I have a theory about the elementals wandering through the halls. I believe they power the devices somehow. We should examine one of the devices more closely as soon as we've rested."

After a too-brief rest, they left, to the dismay of some of their hosts and the obvious relief of others, who quickly barred the door after them. They had passed two of the devices on their way there and were given directions to a third. The Thayan mage tested her theory, explaining she had read a treatise on Imaskari blood magic when a student. All they needed, she surmised, was a willing elemental and a fresh corpse to provide the blood, which fortunately were abundant enough. Safiya collected a vial of blood from a corpse to everyone's disgust, though Okku pointed out that the victim certainly didn't need it anymore. She mixed it with some of the glowing powder that littered the floor, which Gann had jokingly called, "elemental guano."

Dee stretched up and inserted the now brightly glowing globe into the device as Safiya inserted the control lever and gave it a cautious pull. Everyone else stayed safely back. Nothing happened for a moment, but then the device rumbled to life as gears and pulleys that hadn't worked in ages clanged and creaked and groaned. Minutes later, an air elemental floated serenely into the room as if summoned by the device and took its place in the center. It shuddered, and with a rusty clang a pump began working. Was it their imaginations, or could they already see the water receding? They allowed themselves a brief celebratory hug then retraced their steps, and within a little more than an hour had managed to reactivate the rest of the devices, which left them hopeful for the first time since they arrived since now the water was clearly receding.

They cautiously crept around puddles down a flight of newly-exposed stairs, slick with muck, and Dee announced to everyone's surprise that she wanted to go find the hag's lair. "You want to confront her in her lair?" Safiya was beginning to doubt Dee's sanity.

Dee sighed softly, reading her thoughts in her expression. "Yeah, I know it's crazy, Saffy. But think about it. There's a reason she's where she is when she has the run of the place. Mayhap besides being a prisoner, she's guarding the way out?"

Safiya nodded and Gann added, "That is indeed logical, but be ready for a tough fight. A hag is a formidable opponent, and probably more so if she has lost her reason."

"_Tough fight_. That was an understatement." Dee knelt beside the hag with her long sword at her throat, who was near death after possessing Safiya and using her against her companions until they finally knocked her out. The creature only lived because she had surrendered, begging them to stop. Kaelyn tended to Safiya and then their other wounded. Okku and Cillian practically sat on the hag, and Gann trained an arrow on the creature's heart.

The creature blinked up at them as she was overwhelmed by sudden clarity and then stared in wide-eyed amazement at Gann. Her voice was hoarse and raspy after her latest fit of screaming. "Could it be? My Gannayev? Yes! So handsome you are, the very image of your father." She reached a bony, clawed hand towards him. "My wounds have caused the cloud of insanity to be lifted, but it will not last. But you've come back. My beautiful son, you've finally come back to me. I've dreamed of this day for so long, my dear Gannayev..." Dee looked up at him. His mouth was set in an angry frown, but she could see the conflict in his eyes as he looked down at the creature that claimed to be his mother.

However, he kept an arrow trained on her. "_Dear_? Yet you abandoned me to my fate."

Okku moved aside to let the creature stand and Dee withdrew her sword, though none of them let their guard down. She replied bitterly, "_I_ abandoned you? That implies I had a choice in the matter, and I did not. Do not waste what precious time we have together with bitter accusations."

Dee put a hand on Gann's shoulder. "Mayhap you should hear her out. Her words ring true."

He scowled at her then relented with a sigh and turned his attention back to his mother. "Very well. I will hear you, but trust that I will pierce your heart at the first sign of treachery."

Dee stepped back as the creature hobbled painfully over to Gann, looking into his eyes with a gentleness that belied her fiendish appearance. Hags were shapeshifters, capable of luring mates through a combination of charm and glamor spells, which made the hag appear to be the woman or man of their dreams, Gann had said. Dee and her companions had discussed what they knew of hags, which mostly consisted of what Gann knew of them, on the way across the lake, so they would have an idea of what they were going up against. Kaelyn and Safiya were of the opinion they were evil creatures, but Gann, Dee and Okku countered that many insects also devoured their mates, and some birds and reptiles as well. To them this wasn't evil, just efficient, though arguably ruthless.

The hag's story was a tragic one, and saddest of all was when she explained to them how she had tried to deny her nature. She told Gann how she had lured a prized lover who was the envy of her sisters, a very handsome half-elf, but had been ensnared herself when she had fallen in love with her prize. She spoke of his kindness and his gentle voice. She couldn't bear to kill him when the time came and had told her sisters when they demanded an explanation that she was toying with him to prolong the sweetness of the kill. They had accepted her story. But she loved him, so she set him free. She had tried to deceive her sisters by showing them another corpse. She thought she had succeeded in her deception until she gave birth to her beautiful child, which to her sisters was an abomination.

"There was no hiding my crime from my sisters when they saw my son. They imprisoned me immediately, hunted your father down, and brought him back here to my prison when they found him. Then they held me down and forced me to devour him alive, and they held you and forced you to watch. But he forgave me even as they tore him with their claws and forced his flesh down my throat. Such was his gentle nature. He smiled at me and at you as he died..." She collapsed in sobs as she was forced to relive it. Gann said nothing, but conflicting emotions played across his face. She tried to caress his cheek, but he pulled away as if from fire. "_They_ cast you out into the wilds, but I asked the spirits of the land to care for you, and when I could overcome the madness I've sent you dreams to lead you back here, my son."

He murmured, "You cared for me and watched me in your dreams..." Suddenly it all made sense to him, and he didn't try to stop the tears rolling down his cheeks, or move away when she touched his cheek again. But he wasn't alone. Even gruff Okku was moved by the hag's story. Gann relented and gave his mother the embrace they had both longed for.

She pulled away at last and looked at him regretfully. "And now I must send you away myself, my beloved son, for your own good. The voices have returned, and I will not be able to hold the madness at bay for much longer. But take this gift before you go. It is all I have to offer you." She reached into a pocket of her ragged dress and held something out to him in her hand. It appeared to be a red gem, but close observation revealed an eye suspended in the center. "Take my hag's eye. I won't have need of it's power any longer. You can use it when you become powerful enough to enter the Slumbering Coven's collective dream and destroy them. Go quickly now, the way out is up those stairs."

But Gann didn't think they needed to wait for him to become more powerful. He told them he thought he could enter the Coven's dream now, if he had the help of someone he had trained in dream walking. And once he forced them to awaken, their companions would be waiting to fight. The others stood guard over them while Dee helped Gann enter the dream world. Sitting cross-legged on the floor under the eerie hags floating in the air, they held hands, the hag's eye clasped in both their hands. A number of the unlucky supplicants were lying dead on the floor below the hags. A few others who yet lived appeared comatose. "Worse than filthy bloodsuckers," Dee muttered. "They're feeding off the spirits as surely as any spirit-eater." Gann grunted and gave her hand a firm squeeze that said, "focus."

Dee and Gann fought their way through Akachi's dream, now hers, and then freed two of the Coven's victims from their dreams. The third time they entered the shimmering dream portal they emerged in a vast empty gray plane. It was oddly quiet except for wails and shrieks carried on the air. Even their footfalls made no sound. "The Fugue Plane," Dee whispered in awe. In the distance they could see a towering wall, but even from the distance even with her short-sightedness she could make out writhing forms seemingly embedded in it. "And surely that's the Wall of the Faithless." She ignored Gann's snort of disbelief.

Something caught her eye among the writhing mass of imprisoned souls, and she gasped and peered in that direction, and then pointed and muttered, "There!"

Gann stared with the long sight of an archer but could make out nothing but writhing shapes. "What is it you see?"

Dee reached down to calm herself by touching Cillian's head, but he was not there with them. Without a word, she jogged off in the direction of the Wall, then broke into a full run, feeling in her heart the terrible knowledge that awaited her there. Gann shook his head then followed her. She drew up sharp and murmured, "Bish" and reached for one figure among many as Gann caught up with her.

"This is someone from your past?" Gann watched as she reached out to touch what appeared to be a man embedded in the wall, whose body was nearly covered with the same fetid gray slimy mold that covered the rest. Gann could make out scarring, and the man's left eye was ruined and bulging. His body was broken, with some of his limbs twisted at odd angles.

The form that appeared to be Bishop turned his good eye towards Dee as she touched his cheek and tried to brush away the mold. "Gods, Bish...Last I saw you, you told Black Garius to kiss your ass and ran for an exit long before we destroyed the King of Shadows. You had plenty of time to get out. What happened?"

He snorted derisively and replied bitterly, "Not fast enough to get past the roof falling down on my head. I see you made it out though." He wasn't about to admit he went back for Karnwyr. He frowned as if trying to remember something and muttered, "_His holiness_..." There was something in the back of his mind nagging at him, but his anger and bitterness at seeing her trumped whatever it was. Wench always had to get in the last word, even here. His fate was proof of that. He stared at Gann, who had knelt to examine him, as if noticing him for the first time. "Have you thrown _his holiness_ over for this one already? It figures. Fickle swamp wench, never one to let the dust gather between your legs."

She ignored the bitter taunts. "Gann is a good friend. Bish, I warned you about this. But there must be a way to get you out." She tried to pull away the moss covering him, but the deceptively soft surface gave way to sharp barbs that dug into his skin to pull him back and seemed to want to pull her in as well.

Bishop growled, "Stop! You're making it worse. Just leave me alone. I deserve to be here...I'm not even fighting it, unlike most of these other fools." They all looked around as the shrieking grew louder. He stared at her as if seeing her for the first time. "I saw you here in the Wall." He looked distant as if he was hearing something in the cacophony of shrieks then muttered, "The others, do you hear them? They know you're here."

Dee tried to make some sense out of the noise, but it was useless. "What do you mean you saw me there? I'm right here. Why would these others care who I was?"

He stared at her again and repeated, "I saw you here, in the wall...but no, it wasn't you. You're just a mask." He stared at her again then nodded as if confirming his belief. Something behind them caught his attention. "Get ready. The death god knows you're here."

Dee and Gann turned to see a pit fiend and a horned devil across the plain advancing towards them. Gann said softly, "This is a dream, but if we die here, we won't be able to return to our bodies."

Dee was grimly determined as she drew her swords. "Let's make this fast then."

They stood before the shining portal that would lead them back to their bodies in the ruined city. Dee put the mask fragment Bishop gave her in her magic bag and turned to give him a final look. It was harder to make him out now. As he had warned, it seemed that he was surrendering to the power of the Wall. Her parting words to him was a promise that she would find a way to get him out, but he didn't reply. She put a hand on Gann's shoulder. "I have one more stop before we go to face the Coven, but I need your help."

Gann frowned. "We must take care that we have the strength to face the hags when we return, but very well. What did you have in mind?"

"I need to travel to Cas and pray that he's asleep when we get there. I need to get a message to him before he awakens. Do you think we can travel that far with the power of the hag eye?" She bit her lip and gave Bishop's direction a final glance.

Gann shrugged. "We already have traveled that far on the barge, but I assume you want to do more than simply explore his dream. We may need help getting deep enough into the dream state."

They awakened briefly back in the Slumbering Coven's chamber. Safiya was standing beside them. "About time, I was beginning to get worried." Okku and Kaelyn watched the Slumbering Coven as they each stood guard before a door that led into the chamber. Cillian bounded up to Dee and nuzzled her. Dee murmured, "We're almost finished," and reached into her magic bag until she found her secret stash of Black Lotus extract.

She handed it to Gann, who tsked at her but showed her how to pour out a scant few drops, no more than enough to coat the nail of her little finger. "Any more than that and we might not be able to fight when we return."

She nodded and carefully poured the thick sticky liquid on her nail and stuck it in her mouth, grimacing at its bitter taste as she licked it off. Gann did the same then took her hands and used the hag eye to travel into the dream realm. He let her take the lead since she knew the way, and they passed by the threads of many dreams until she spotted one that resonated with her. "There it is." It was an ordinary dream as far as dreams go. They found him leaving the temple of Tyr in Neverwinter walking with Dee towards the shops. A sudden summer shower caused them to take shelter under an awning of a shop, and he pulled her into a kiss. It felt strange, watching his dream image of her and seeing how he saw her. She was fit and healthy, and her hair shone, and she was more beautiful than she knew she had ever been.

Gann noted the difference and explained, "He sees you through eyes of love."

She sighed and crossed the street and stood in their way, coming out of the rain like an apparition. Casavir frowned, looking quickly from his dream version of Dee to her reality, thin and wasted, all lean muscle and sinew, with sunken cheeks and deep circles under her eyes. She was oddly pale despite her tan. And he knew in his heart this was his love. His dream version faded away at once as he reached for her. Gann joined them but stayed just out of sight. Casavir was about to speak, but she put a finger to his lips and stopped him. "I don't have long, my love. You must listen, and you must remember when you wake up. Bish is dead?" She didn't need to wait for his response to what she knew in her heart was true, though it had only been a dream. "You must go to his grave with a priest who can resurrect him. Please, you must do it today as soon as you wake up! Trust me on this, my love."

Gann hissed, "We tarry here too long!" She gave Casavir a final kiss and let the spirit shaman take her hand and lead her away, though she watched Casavir until they were out of sight.


	52. A Reunion of Sorts

Chapter 52 A Reunion, of Sorts

Usual Disclaimer: Most of the characters in this chapter are not owned by me, though all of the NPC's are. As always, concrit, questions, and suggestions appreciated.

On the Sword Coast:

Wolf glanced at the hint of light in the sky to gage the hour. "You want me to lead you back to Bishop's body because the Captain told you to in a dream? Are you sure, Sir?" He tried unsuccessfully to hide his disbelief that the paladin was making such a request of him at such an early hour.

Casavir flushed in embarrassment, hearing a sound from inside the room that indicated the boy wasn't alone. He was of age now, and a comely lad despite a few teenage blemishes, so he should have expected that. But a heartbeat later, Karnwyr was standing beside him looking up quizzically at the paladin. One of the first things Elanee had done was use the power granted to her by Silvanus to restore and regenerate the wolf's burned skin, even before she did the same for the boy. He offered his hand to the wolf. "Karnwyr's still with you then?" He hadn't been sure how long the wolf would stay around with his bond with Bishop broken.

Wolf shrugged sleepily in the doorway then reached down and scratched Karnwyr's head. "Yeah, we ain't bonded or nothin', but he got half tame livin' with Bishop, and he's comfortable enough with me. He really likes Zeta though." He craned his neck to look up at Casavir's face. The paladin seemed earnest, but it occurred to the boy that the strain of almost six tendays with no word about his wife would get to anyone. He asked again, "Are you sure, sir? Mayhap you should talk about it with your companions first?"

Casavir suppressed a sigh and nodded. "I wouldn't blame you for thinking I'm losing my mind, lad, but the dream was very vivid. I honestly felt as if she was with me."

Wolf frowned as he thought about this. "Do you think it could've be a haint? We had lots of nasty undead here, and the Ironfists are still turnin' things up now that they're exploring the deep ruins under the Keep. Or could it be..." He hesitated, thinking how best to go on, showing admirable tact for his age. "Do you think it could've been your lady's spirit? Mayhap Brother Ivarr could advise you before we go runnin' off into the hills and disturb a grave needlessly."

Casavir again flushed, the madness of his request being reinforced after hearing the voice of reason coming from a young man of sixteen. "Perhaps you are right, Wolf. I will speak to Brother Ivarr. He should be up by now, but I'll give him time to have his breakfast. Do you think you could find Elanee for me anyway? I shall require her services to...perform the resurrection. She's the only cleric in the area capable of casting the appropriate spell."

Wolf looked up at the sky again. At least the rain had stopped, not that he paid much mind to the rain other than to duck under a tree if he had to. "I know where she's been workin' while she waits for Master Daeghun to get back. 'Tis not too far. Karnwyr and I should be able to track her down and mayhap return by highsun."

The druid had been working to create a new grove and restoring the damage to the land from the King of Shadow's blight. She had told Wolf when he came across her one day while he was hunting that her plan was to eventually turn the grove over to Byrun, Orlen's younger son, who had become her initiate. She told him that while she wanted to help Daeghun search for his foster daughter, her first duty was to Nature, and they agreed that Dee would also want her to heal the land. Therefore, she rarely returned to the Keep.

"Thank you, Wolf. Again, I apologize for the earliness of the hour."

Wolf shrugged again. "In truth, I was lyin' there about ready to get up." He bowed his head to him respectfully, and Casavir did the same then walked off towards the temple to petition his god and wait for Brother Ivarr to come in for the morning prayers.

Wolf waited for him to get out of sight then shut the door. "Did you hear that?"

Zeta sat up in the narrow bed. They were not lovers, but their brief time adventuring together had brought them closer, as they took comfort in one another's presence when their dreams were haunted by having seen too much death at too young an age. "Yeah. Weird, huh? He's the last person I'd ever think would lose his wits, even over somethin' like this. He always seemed as solid as one of his statues." She pulled her blanket around her as if chilled by the thought, frowned and chewed her finger. "He dreamed she came to him and told him to dig up Bishop? Weird by itself, but there was this thing with Neeshka last tenday..."

Wolf let Karnwyr out then went through his pack to ensure he had anything he might need. He paused and turned to the girl, noting again that sometimes her eyes glowed red in the dark. He wondered if she was aware of that or what she might say if he brought it up. He thought better of it, not wanting to risk their friendship. "What thing with Neeshka? Or can you tell me?"

Zeta stood and stretched and wrapped her blanket around herself again. "Yeah, I can, and I won't have to kill you afterwards either." She giggled as he tossed a balled up pair of dirty socks he found that had been rotting in his pack at her and continued. "She goes down to that summoning circle etched into the floor in the first cellar. You probably don't know she goes down to talk to a pit fiend they met in Jerro's Haven through it. Just between you and me, she...thinks they're related."

In fact, Neeshka believed they were both related to Mephasm because the pit fiend hadn't seemed surprised at all when she brought Zeta with her one evening. He knew her by name, just as he had known Neeshka the first time she saw him. Zeta found it unnerving to say the least. She suppressed a shudder as that was something better left unsaid and went on.

"Anyway, you know how frustrated everyone has been that they haven't been able to find out anything about where the Captain is, just that she's not dead, but not close, and not always on the Prime. They think whoever took her must've had some powerful magic. Like a lich, or even a god. So Neeshka finally asked Mephasm, even though she probably has to do something for him in return for his help. And all the bugger told her was, 'She's looking over your left shoulder.' And Neeshka said she thought she could almost see her for a minute when she turned around, and she wasn't alone. But then she wasn't sure if the fiend hadn't tricked her, and he wouldn't tell her anything else. Mephasm could have summoned a thrall to take the Captain's shape to fool Neeshka. It's very weird."

Wolf went back to packing. "Huh. That _is_ really weird. And creepy. Figures the fiend didn't really tell her anything. That just proves you can't trust 'em." He pulled on his trewes up his legs, marveling again as he did whenever he saw his own flesh at how Elanee had completely restored the scarred skin then flushed as he realized Zeta was watching him stroke his smooth yet oddly hairless thigh. He grabbed his clean shirt from his shelf and pulled that over his head.

She walked gracefully over to him while keeping the blanket wrapped tightly around her, and knelt to look through his pack to make sure he hadn't forgotten anything while he fastened his brigandine. He was such a boy sometimes. "Yeah, but she didn't say anything about it to anyone but me, though she was gonna tell Master Sand when he got back from Neverwinter. I don't think she did yet though. But like I said, what's weirder still is that Captain wasn't alone. Neeshka said she thought there was someone standing behind her, a man with bluish skin. She got a feeling he was planar."

Wolf fastened his patched green cloak, which had seen quite a bit of wear since the Captain had won it at the Harvest Festival more than two years ago. "_Blue_ skin you say? Weird. Definitely not from around here then. Some people think that Ammon Jerro had somethin' to do with the Captain being taken. That's the rumor anyway. Mayhap the blue man was some kinda demonic keeper? That could be why he was standin' behind her. But why would they be here?"

Zeta wrinkled her nose as if smelling something bad at the mention of Ammon Jerro. She had always avoided the glowering warlock whenever he crossed her path. "Could be, Mephasm is blue. Besides, it's _awfully_ convenient that the warlock disappeared the same time the Captain did. That's what Neeshka says, and it makes sense to me. She's argued about it with Captain Khelgar more than once, so much that they were avoiding each other for days. He doesn't believe it tho' and says Jerro was fightin' the things that took the Captain same as he was. I don't know. It could have been a ruse so they wouldn't think he was involved. But why would he go through all that trouble of pretending to fight them once they had her?"

Wolf shouldered his pack and pulled up his hood. "Yeah, and there's the Githzerai too. They never found a trace of her body at the ruin, just Qara's and one of the Luskans."

He grew silent, remembering how Qara's charred, broken body had been brought back by the rescuers along with that of a woman he identified as being with the Luskan party. The Luskan was buried outside of the Keep proper in a cemetery reserved for travelers who died there. Qara's body was placed temporarily in a tomb in the temple while word was sent to her father in Neverwinter. Wolf overheard a whispered conversation between Sand and Khelgar that led him to believe that she had betrayed them and joined the King of Shadows, and should rightly be in the Tomb of the Betrayers. That didn't surprise Wolf much. He had pegged Qara right away as someone whose chief interest in life was herself and gaining power for herself, then making a display of her power so that others would tremble in fear before her. But if she had betrayed them, nothing of her betrayal made it into the official record.

More than a month after they had departed for the Mere to face the Shadowking, Qara's father finally returned to Neverwinter and then sent a terse message to the Keep that he did not believe in resurrection, and so his daughter should be buried as they saw fit. So in the end she was left where she had been placed, with only a handful of people besides her grim former companions in attendance at her funeral.

The memory still saddened him, as did the githzerai's unknown fate. "Leather told me Sir Nevalle thinks Miss Zhjaeve's disappearance is pretty damning too. He thinks her people could have taken the Captain for the sword once they finished the Shadowking. They would need her to get the last shard out of her chest. It's too bad Miss Neeshka can't talk to Master Aldanon as well as Master Sand. He might know if Giths can be blue." He checked the tips and fletchings of his arrows then put his quiver over his shoulder.

Zeta paused while tucking a pouch of dried fish and a couple of apples into his pack. He was such a boy sometimes, and he wouldn't even think about eating until his stomach started rumbling, and then he would have to forage for whatever dried berries or roots he could find. "I think Sir Nevalle talks too much. He could be a security risk if it was anyone but Leather polishing his 'sword.' Someone should talk to him about it. And Leather shouldn't be repeating what Sir Nevalle says when his other brain's in control. But yeah, Neeshka said the blue man was a real looker, so I don't think he sounds like a Gith. Not that I've seen any but the one, and she hid her face behind that veil. But still..."

Wolf nodded in understanding as he took an offered pouch of dried fruit and nuts and tied it on his belt. "I'll talk to Master Grobnar too. Bards see and hear a lot in their travels. Mayhap he might know what the blue man is." Wolf knew that Grobnar had been seeking out his Harper contacts, but he kept that to himself. Grobnar had approached him about working with the Harpers as a junior scout about a tenday after they got back from the Mere, but no one but he and Daeghun knew about Wolf's acceptance of the offer. Grobnar and his new apprentice Dulce had gone to Neverwinter and east from there while Daeghun had headed south. Wolf was to be their eyes and ears around the Keep in the meantime.

Zeta shook her head and tsked at him as she pushed his hair, which he hadn't even bothered to brush, out of his eyes. "He and Dulce came back last eve. I saw him talking with Master Sand."

Wolf paused at the threshold. "Are you sure you don't want to go with me, get out of the Keep and get some fresh air?" He smiled at her hopefully.

She opened the door. "Ugh, the sun's not even fully up. Only place I'm goin' is back to bed until Hiram's cinnamon rolls are ready, and then I have page duty with Captain Khelgar this afternoon." She was also up late exploring a merchant caravan that stopped off the evening before, looking for anyone or anything out of place to report to Neeshka, but she kept that to herself.

Wolf made a disappointed pout and momentarily considered putting off his journey for a few hours. But only for a moment. "That's right, it is cinnamon roll day today." Hiram had decided that every thirdday would be cinnamon roll day after he settled back into his duties in the kitchens, and his cinnamon rolls were now eagerly anticipated by the grateful Greycloaks. But Wolf had given Casavir his word. "Try to save me one?"

Zeta chuckled throatily as she pushed him out the door. "I promise I'll be waiting with one. You best get goin' before the rain starts anew." She closed the door behind him after she watched him whistle for Karnwyr and sprint off, and then she crawled back into his narrow bed where she tried to get back to sleep. But she swore she could already smell the rolls baking. She threw back the covers and hastily dressed, having decided that she would have first crack at the rolls, and it would be easier to save one for Wolf if she got there in time to help Hiram.

Casavir looked up from his prayers as the dwarven cleric bustled into the sanctuary with a basket looped over one arm and set up a ladder so he could begin replacing candles. Casavir was surprised that one of the acolytes wasn't assigned this menial duty as he made the sign of Tyr and stood to help him. Brother Ivarr smiled up at him as Casavir pulled down a high sconce. He asked perceptively, "You're usually up early, but this is early even for you. Is something troubling you?" The priest thought he knew what was troubling him, but he also knew that if anyone had brought word of the Captain's whereabouts or fate, someone surely would have awakened him.

Casavir replaced the candles as Brother Ivarr handed them to him and waited for him to work up the nerve to say whatever needed to be said. Finally he told him about the dream and ended just as they finished their task, while the priest listened quietly. "You know about the dreams I've had of her lately. However, this one last night was so vivid, I'm..._certain_ she was trying to send me a message. I know it sounds mad...but I'm sure of it."

Brother Ivarr closed a hymnal that had been left open on a pew then patted his arm. "You have been under quite a lot of pressure, but I am confident you're mentally sound. However, I agree with the lad. Speak to your companions today while I attempt a divination spell to ascertain whether our Lord can tell us if it was indeed her. I can't imagine why she would need the betrayer raised from the dead if not to see him hang, but I cannot imagine she would send you a message for that."

Casavir was relieved, not only to find that he was believed, but also to have a purpose for the first time in tendays. He had felt increasingly impotent from his inability to do anything to retrieve his love other than pray for her, and he had fallen lately into his old habit of self-doubt, blaming himself for not protecting her. "Thank you, Brother. Most of them will not be awake yet, but I can prepare provisions for the journey while I wait."

Brother Ivarr smiled fondly. "Splendid! Now, let us go to the dining hall. It's cinnamon roll day, you know." Since this was a relatively small temple, he and the few acolytes assigned to him had been allowed by Dee to take their meals with the Greycloaks, which saved the temple the expense of hiring a cook or spared him from suffering an unskilled acolyte's cooking.

Casavir sent a message with one of the Greycloaks to Harm, the Master of Horse, to ready their mounts. For he was the only one besides Casavir and Elanee (and Dee when she was still with him) that Thunder would tolerate grooming or saddling him, much less riding him. Casavir wasn't sure how many horses would be needed as he wasn't sure who would be coming, and it occurred to him that he was no longer waiting for his companions' counsel. He was hoping to leave as soon as Wolf arrived with Elanee. Such was the power of the dream over him.

Brother Ivarr watched him with a bemused expression then led the way to the dining hall. "It seems you've made up your mind."

Casavir flushed but smiled wryly. "Indeed, it seems I have." He motioned a page over and sent word to his companions that he needed to speak with them at breakfast, deciding that he would rather not wait until they awoke on their own.

Once they reached the dining hall he sent one of the cook's assistants to gather provisions for a tenday, though he didn't think they would be gone nearly that long. He and Brother Ivarr took their place in line, refusing politely the offer of several Greycloaks to let them cut ahead, though they did let the page join them when he returned from delivering Casavir's messages. They took their trays, Brother Ivarr's laden with enough food for two men, and walked to a room set aside for private meetings or for when the Captain had to entertain visiting dignitaries. Casavir picked at his food, letting Brother Ivarr do the bulk of the eating and talking while he waited.

Finally the door opened, and Sand slipped in gracefully, looking elegant in his green watered silk robe, appearing none the worse for having had his reverie interrupted. His tray held a typical elven breakfast of a light porridge with fruit and nuts and an herbal tea. But even he couldn't resist the siren call of the cinnamon rolls. He was followed by Grobnar and Neeshka, who delivered a message that Khelgar would be along as soon as he finished going through a stack of dispatches and requisitions, but they should start without him.

Neeshka looked as if she had made a late night of it as she poured herself into a chair well out of the autumn light filtering in the window. She gobbled down her roll and finished it up with black coffee. She waited just as long as it took to finish the roll then interrupted the small talk in the room. "So what's up?" She didn't have to ask if Casavir had received any news about Dee. There was no way that news wouldn't have been spread around the Keep like wildfire as soon as it was delivered.

Casavir stood and cleared his throat. Everyone could see the tension in his posture. They independently came to the conclusion that he was looking for a way to tell them something disturbing, something he suspected they wouldn't like. "Please hear me out before you say anything. Last night I had the strangest dream..." All eyes were upon him as he recounted the dream, and to her credit, even Neeshka managed to let him tell it all without interrupting him once. He resumed his seat. "I know, it sounds mad, but she was so adamant. And I feel..." He took a swallow of his coffee before he continued. "I feel that somehow she did send me the message. I don't know what to make of it though."

"Bishop?" Neeshka shook her head, and her tail lashed in agitation. "How could she know he died, and why would she want that creep resurrected?" Neeshka gasped and Sand squeezed her tail to stop her from blurting out what had occurred to him that moment too. For the easiest explanation for Dee to have learned of Bishop's death was that she was dead herself. But every Commune spell that had been attempted thus far said she yet lived, though her location could not be ascertained by mage nor priest.

Brother Ivarr spoke up, sensing their thoughts. "As far as we know she lives, though I am going to petition our lord again to determine whether that has changed." He stretched over and patted Casavir's arm as he saw the stricken look on his face.

Neeshka refilled her coffee as he spoke and paced the floor anxiously before she turned to face them. "I haven't said anything about this because, well, I know how you're going to react. Anyway,..." She told them of her visit to summon Mephasm using the charm that Dee had Sand craft but decided against using herself. "And he told me she was there watching us. And when I turned around I thought she was! It was her, but not her. It was like she wasn't solid. But I admit I only caught a glimpse of her. And she wasn't alone."

Casavir sat up straight at those words and interrupted her. "Hold for a moment, Neeshka. I sensed the same thing, and I want to ensure that we aren't feeding one another's delusion if that's what it is." He leaned over and whispered what he had seen to Sand then motioned for Neeshka to go on when he finished.

She blurted out nervously toying with the tip of her tail, "Like I said, I only caught a glimpse of her. But standing behind her was a man with long dark hair wearing armor made out of some kind of wild cat hide. And his face was a grayish blue! He was really cute though. I sensed he was planar too. I've been trying to think of a way to ask Sand about it."

Casavir jumped out of his seat and grabbed her hand as Sand said calmly, "Interesting. Perhaps Casavir should tell us everything he remembers."

Casavir dropped her hand, conscious that he was making her itch. But he was too excited by having confirmation to step away from the tiefling. "Yes, I recall that armor. He was handsome enough I suppose, but there was something rather _unwholesome_ about his eyes and the shape of his mouth." He shrugged at Neeshka, who was too excited to learn that she wasn't seeing things to care that he questioned her taste in men. "Perhaps he is a druid of some kind, or a shaman? He had that look about him. I recall seeing pouches on his belt."

"Glad I'm not the only one havin' visions of the Captain then!" They startled and turned to face Khelgar, who had just come in so quietly they didn't even hear him. "I was meditating in the monastery garden not even a tenday ago when I suddenly saw a vision of her through my third eye. The sight was enough to snap me out of me trance. But when I opened my eyes, she was gone. I wasn't sure what to make of the vision, so I kept it to meself while I've tried without success to repeat it. But aye, I saw the blue man too. Somethin' about him reminded me of a frog. Sorry, fiendling."

Sand took a sip of his tea. "Do go on. What about our dear girl? What do any of you remember about her appearance?"

Neeshka thought about it. "She wasn't solid so it was hard to tell, but she looked really tired."

Khelgar nodded. "Aye, sickly and skinnier than when she left, worse than that slip of an elf. I only saw her for a heartbeat though too."

Casavir closed his eyes as he tried to recall what he saw. "Indeed, she had ropey veins standing out on her hands and deep circles under her eyes, and her cheeks were hollow. She was pale despite her tan. She looked rather wasted, like a plague victim..." He gave a stifled gasp and trailed off as Brother Ivarr stood to offer him comfort. Casavir fought back tears, as did Neeshka.

After he composed himself and Sand coolly pressed him on, he continued. "She was wearing her leather brigandine and a heavy cloak, as was the stranger. I got the feeling they're someplace much colder than here." He wracked his brain to remember any detail no matter how insignificant. "Cillian wasn't with her either. That of itself is disturbing. Let's see...She wore her swords, but I don't recall either being the Sword of Gith. Remember the hilt was very distinctive."

Neeshka piped up. "When I saw her she was unarmed and wearing a long blue or green robe with a high neck, or maybe it was bluish-green, something she would wear if she was in her room in the evening. And on the sleeves and up the front there was bands of blackwork embroidery." She ran her fingers of her left hand up her right arm to illustrate. "Like this. But I only saw a glimpse of her."

Casavir frowned as he considered that. "I suppose it's some comfort knowing that she is able to purchase clothing wherever she is, and not just the basics, but a dressing gown. That means she isn't likely a prisoner, or if she is, she's being cared for despite how sickly she looks."

Grobnar had been listening quietly until now, but Neeshka's observation caught his attention. "Black embroidery worked in a band so? Worked in geometric patterns?" He copied the way she had illustrated on her arm and body. "I know I've read about clothing decorated with embroidery that match that description somewhere. I believe they're worn by the people at the eastern end of the Sea of Fallen Stars. Perhaps in Mulhorand, Alglarond, Rashemen, or Thesk. Perhaps it was in _Volo's Guide to the Golden Road_. I'll go to the library and peruse it before you leave. I assume you're all leaving today?"

Casavir said dejectedly as Grobnar's words sunk in, "Could they really have taken her so far away?" That would explain the inability to find her magically, and that thought almost sent him into despair again. But he whispered a prayer and forced himself to assume his normal calm demeanor. "Yes, today. I've taken the liberty of arranging for horses and supplies for the journey, but there's no point in going if I can't convince Elanee to cast the spell. We would be forced to bring his remains back to Neverwinter and find a willing cleric there." As he said the words, he immediately thought of the High Justicar, but Casavir was reluctant to ask him to perform a resurrection that must be hidden from Lord Nasher.

Sand steepled his slender fingers under his chin. "Count me in if it helps us get the dear girl back safely. However, that still doesn't answer the question of _why_ she needs this done. And moreover, what shall we do with the ranger once he's been raised, hmm?"

Khelgar's voice wasn't nearly as booming since he had begun to focus intently on his monk studies, but being quieter it was more startling now. "Sayin' we do this, what guarantee do we have that he'll even come with us? He could just make that vile gesture he's famous for and go on his merry way."

Brother Ivarr had listened silently until now, but he felt compelled to speak up, and his voice boomed across the room much as Khelgar's used to. "The man betrayed everyone here when he sabotaged the Keep. He deserves nothin' less than hanging after a fair trial." He sat back with his arms crossed across his chest, looking around the room defiantly.

Casavir sighed. "You are correct that he should have to account for his crime. However, Sand and I have already discussed this at length, and we are both of the opinion that he wasn't entirely responsible for his actions. There are several mitigating factors that you are not aware of, Brother. Granted, he's an ass, but his betrayal was directed at Dee, not Neverwinter. That is why he wanted to rub her nose in it when he could have been safely away."

Sand added with obvious distaste as if it pained him to admit the truth, "Yes, and in addition, we know he had been placed under a powerful Geas by Black Garius. It must have taken an enormous effort of will to tell Dee what he had done at Garius's behest, for he would have had to have fought the excruciating pain it caused the entire time. As much as I would like to see him pay, I would feel compelled to offer him a competent legal defense."

Casavir toyed with his holy symbol. "As would I. I've never liked nor trusted the man, but it would be unjust for me not to assist in his defense knowing what I know. While his declaration to my wife might seem like the height of vindictiveness, the knowledge of his sabotage actually gave us time to erect barricades to hold the undead back when the attack came. If he truly intended to betray us, he could have simply left or even revealed that hidden escape tunnel to Black Garius, and we would have been taken completely by surprise." Casavir ran a hand through his thick black hair. "I admit, however, I am biased because my lady needs him for some reason."

Brother Ivarr huffed, "To save him from the Wall of the Faithless where he belongs!"

Sand said archly, "That raises another point. Might I remind you, he's dead. That fact alone should put him beyond the reach of Neverwintan justice. Furthermore, he left as soon as he realized that he was free of the Geas, with a parting shot at Black Garius's back that only helped us. His last living act was to try to help free Casavir from the Luskans who held him captive. Surely that's worth something." He didn't state the obvious, that Bishop was trying to free himself as well. Brother Ivarr didn't look quite convinced, so he added, "And I'll add what Casavir won't: justice in Neverwinter is too often tainted by political expediency. If Nasher needs a scapegoat, it won't matter what evidence of his innocence we present."

Ivarr scowled, but he knew in his heart Sand was right. Casavir met his eyes pleadingly. He sighed. "Alright, I'll admit that's the main reason why I accepted this assignment at this backwater fortress. But tell me, how do you think the Greycloaks will react when they see him? The Captain worked hard to build rapport with her troops, and I fear this might undermine all that she has done. Think on that." He sprung to his feet with more grace than one would have expected from an elderly dwarf. "Meanwhile, I will go to the meditation chamber to petition our Lord Tyr. I must think on the wording of the questions first. I also don't think I should hear whatever plan you all come up with. Plausible deniability, after all." He grinned sardonically as he picked up his tray and huffed out the door.

The room grew silent for a few minutes after he left, everyone deep in thought and attending to their breakfast or picking at it. Neeshka refilled everyone's coffee and Sand's tea, her tail lashing evidence of her impatience. Finally she couldn't stand the silence any longer. "Are we really gonna do this?" She looked around at her companions. "Then I'm in too, though the priest is right. Think about it. He's going to need at the very least a whole new face and name or face a lynch mob within a tenday, whether you can get him off in a trial or not."

Khelgar said with a note of regret, "I really want to go, but I've got too much work to do here to leave for a few days. I wonder sometimes how the lass managed to travel as much as she had to and keep as tight a rein on this place as she did."

Casavir smiled at him. "I understand. I think she would rather you tend to the Keep, though I must say you've done an admirable job."

Grobnar finished a swallow of coffee. "I would like to go, but I think perhaps my time might be better spent researching that gown Neeshka says she wore and the blue fellow. It could be nothing, but how likely is it she would appear in a foreign style of garb unless that is what she was currently wearing? Now that Aldanon and his apprentices have returned to Neverwinter, there isn't anyone to do the research for us. Besides, it will be good experience for my apprentice."

He grinned eagerly as he looked around at his companions. "I'm also rather curious again about Thay. You recall we suspected Thayans before because of that locket she was gifted, but as far as we could tell using my and Neeshka's contacts, that proved to be a dead end. Now I'm not so sure. I'm also expecting a Harper agent who was traveling from Silverymoon to Neverwinter. If it was at all possible, I know the Captain would have sought out Harpers wherever she is, even if she was restricted to asking about the Wendersnaven. No one I've spoken to so far had heard anything, but if she is truly that far away, it would take months for a message to reach us."

Casavir stood and beamed with gratitude. "Thank you all. I would like to leave as soon as Wolf and Elanee return."

They departed to gather their packs and change into traveling clothes (Sand, anyway). It was agreed that Casavir would send the page on duty for them as soon as Elanee arrived, though he was tempted to leave anyway and let her and Wolf catch up with them.

Wolf hadn't seen any sign of Elanee so far, but that didn't mean she wasn't around. The weather was fine, with a touch of autumn coolness, but the rain had held off. As they hiked through the forest, he paused and made the call of the mountain raven, which made twice was an agreed upon signal. Finally he was rewarded when the call was returned, and not by another raven this time. Karnwyr sniffed the air then barked and headed off to the west, and Wolf trotted after him. He climbed a ridge and spotted the druid in a clearing below, in a circle of newly planted oak, ash, and thorn trees. He knew that with her magic, the trees would be fully grown next spring. But he also saw several huge standing rocks arranged within the circle, which were not there last time he saw her.

He whistled to hail her and noticed that there were three other people with her. He recognized Farmer Orlen's son Byrun, but the others were strangers. Standing next to Elanee was a man with silver hair worn in a long braid and a thick beard that would have made any dwarf proud. Beside him was a plump grandmotherly woman leaning on an oaken staff. He guessed they were fellow druids from their simple brown robes and the many pouches that hung from their belts. Elanee called to him across the clearing. "Well met, young ranger. Has there been news?"

He shook his head. "No, but Casavir needs your help. I can explain on the way back to Crossroad Keep."

They didn't leave as soon as he would have liked. Elanee surmised from the way he hesitated to go into the details of Casavir's mission that this was something Wolf didn't want to tell her in front of strangers. And as Elanee introduced them, Wolf realized that these were no ordinary strangers, but the Grand Druid herself and a traveling archdruid from the High Forest. He felt guilty taking her away from such important visitors. They had come to bless Elanee's budding grove, anoint her as an archdruid, and to officially ordain Byrun into the order. They had Wolf kneel as well and called forth a blessing on him as a ranger of Meilikki. He was honored, but at the same time he had a hard time getting his mind off his quest. Leaving Byrun there with the senior druids, Elanee fastened her cloak and followed Wolf. "What has happened?"

He looked around and replied tersely, "I'll explain on the way back."

As soon as they set foot through the gate, Katriona, who was the sergeant of the day at the bailey gate, found Casavir in the temple, where he had gone to pray for direction in his quest. She said in a hushed whisper, "They've returned." She met his eyes and looked away and blushed.

He understood why. Bevil had acted similarly when he had encountered him recently. They obviously felt guilty that they were happy newlyweds, while happiness had been denied to him and Dee, and he could read it in their eyes. "Thank you, my friend." He squeezed her hand as she smiled sadly at him and he walked out into the gloomy afternoon.

Elanee had considered turning back more than once as she listened tight lipped as Wolf explained what Casavir needed her to do, but the boy was very persuasive. She shifted into the form of a red-tailed hawk so she could think about it and followed him and Karnwyr. She had prayed too as they traveled, and though she also suspected that Dee only wanted to free Bishop from the _Wall of the Faithless_, she didn't get a sense that Silvanus disapproved. Then after listening to Casavir recount the dream and the earlier discussion, she made up her mind. "I will do it. But Neeshka is right. What are we bringing him back to face? This will be for naught if Lord Nasher demands we surrender him to his justice."

Casavir nodded. "That's why it's better if he remains hidden until we learn what my lady needs of him."

Elanee met his deep blue eyes and replied with unusual sarcasm. "Oh, that should be easy." But she was now as committed as the others were. "There's still no guarantee that Silvanus will allow it. There is, however, ancient druidic reincarnation magic that I could use which, rather than bringing his spirit back and raising his body, would actually raise him in another form, though not necessarily human." In fact, Silvanus was much more likely to reincarnate him in the form of an animal, but she kept that to herself. "It is the method preferred by druids, that is if they would even bring back someone from the dead at all. It does violate the natural order of birth and death. That's why we prefer a rebirth in another form."

Casavir thought about her words. "But what if he cannot fulfill whatever my lady needs him to do in the new form? Then there would be no point in disturbing his rest."

Elanee said doubtfully, "That's saying there _is_ some quest for him at all. I have to say that Brother Ivarr might be right, and she only wants us to save him from the _Wall of the Faithless_." She sighed in resignation as he looked at the ground. "But we druids hate the Wall and everything it represents. It would be much better if our gods followed the druidic way and the example of the pantheon of the far east and allowed the dead to work out their misdeeds of their lives in a new life, reserving the afterlife for those who have found enlightenment."

Casavir nodded in agreement. "Indeed, we have had many discussions on that topic at the temple of Tyr. I have it on good authority that Tyr is one of the gods who consider the _Wall of the Faithless_ to be unjust, but they cannot go against the ruling of Ao."

Elanee frowned. "I wish I could believe Bishop will appreciate what we're going to do for him, but I doubt that too."

On the way to the burial site after several evenings' discussion, they had settled on her performing a simple resurrection, and Sand suggested a polymorph spell made permanent to change his appearance to solve the problem of his being recognized. But he reminded them that Bishop would have to agree, and furthermore, he would be the same Bishop. Casavir spoke his hope that Bishop's time in the Wall had given him time to reflect on his life and his actions, but Sand wasn't as hopeful. "I suggest we seriously consider putting him under a Geas as well. I can think on the precise wording so I'm ready to cast it when we arrive."

Casavir rubbed his chin in thought. "A Geas? I see your logic, yet I fear that might backfire on us as he would feel we were forcing his cooperation and placing those hated chains around him again. It would remind him too much of what Black Garius had done to him."

Neeshka shrugged. "Well shouldn't we be? Forcing his cooperation, I mean?"

Elanee nodded in agreement. "Bishop never was one to do anything that doesn't benefit himself. That's something else to think about. We might have to make this worth his while. And while I think he had stronger feelings for Dee than he would ever admit, I fear that helping her won't be enough motivation. Nor do I expect him to be grateful. I'll talk to Karnwyr. He might have some advice on dealing with him."

At times like this Sand regretted that his specialization did not allow him to cast teleportation spells. But he had others at his disposal to grant speed to their horses and provide for his comforts on the way. They made good time as the autumn rains held off, though that troubled Elanee. Wolf lost the way twice, but the first time he finally recognized an oak tree with a branch that curved up almost into a heart shape, and the second time Elanee cast a spell that let her talk with Karnwyr, who remembered very well the path they had taken.

They reached the cave, Karnwyr barking happily and pawing at the ground as if he knew what they were doing there. And perhaps he did. Casavir, Neeshka, and Wolf carefully moved the stones away from the niche where they had laid him to rest while Elanee communed with her god. Casavir had half expected to find the body gone, as if Dee was trying to tell him he was alive and loose, but that was not the case. They smelled him long before they finished exposing his corpse. They cleared away enough rocks to allow access to the body and got out of the spell casters' way and into fresher air.

Elanee sat cross-legged on the ground near the body and Sand sat behind her, wondering how she could tolerate the smell as she leaned forward into the niche and lay her hands on the corpse's chest. Green light flowed from her hands after a moment and quickly spread until it enveloped Bishop. A heartbeat later, they saw his leg jerk and heard him cough. Another heartbeat later, they heard a muttered, "Fuck!" and he slowly sat up as Karnwyr barked happily and pushed his way to him and licked his face.

He wrapped his arms around the wolf. "Good to see you too, mutt." He then became conscious of his location in the cave, his bow and quiver laid out beside him, and then of the others with him in the cave. Elanee handed him a waterskin as he looked around and muttered angrily, "Who...how...what the hells?"


	53. Anarchy in Thay

Chapter 53 Anarchy in Thay

Usual disclaimer: Most of the characters are owned by a whole lot of people and not me, other than a bear-lovin' ranger and an occasional NPC. As usual, reviews and concrit appreciated.

The journey back across Lake Mulsantir seemed endless, but they actually completed it more than a day faster thanks to a brisk north wind. Dee bore stoically Kaelyn's nearly constant spiel entreating her to renew Akachi's crusade to bring down the _Wall of the Faithless_ until she finally snapped, "I don't want to talk about it anymore. I need to rest!"

The irony was that after seeing what became of Bishop, and more importantly, learning from him that some part of her soul was imprisoned there, she had been nearly ready to agree. But the priestess's relentless fanaticism grated on her, and that in turn caused her to think better of it. So instead she used her condition as an excuse to avoid her, and nestled snugly between Cillian and the bear god, who growled at anyone except Safiya who got too close. Gann monitored her dreams so she wouldn't be tempted to stay with her love, but she resisted the urge to travel to Casavir's dreams, being content with her own dreams of him. Only Gann knew how much it had taken out of her the first time, because such a long dream journey had taken much out of him too.

They arrived in Mulsantir late in the afternoon and decided that rather than leave at once for Thay, they should rest and reequip that night and get a fresh start in the morning. The Hunger had been sated again, so they could afford the time. That evening Dee went through her new magic bag looking for things to sell and went through the gifts she had bought in the market or found for her friends back home, amazed at how much she had accumulated in six tendays. And the clothes—she really did take after her mother in that regard despite only having vague memories of her, she decided. Once she was finished she made her usual visit to the shrine of Meilikki, where even Kazimika had grudgingly admitted that she no longer believed Dee was an abomination who should be cast from the city walls, and she also joined Sheva Whitefeather and Katya in praying a blessing on the successful completion of Dee's quest.

Then Dee and Safiya said their farewells to the friends they had made in Mulsantir, knowing they probably would never return. They had a last drink with the berserkers at the _Ice Troll Lodge_ and left enough coin to pay for rounds for the evening for all. They stopped by the market with a gift of a pouch of coins for of Azim and Mavish's new son, born while they were away. Dee found that she could even hold the babe and stoke his soft tawny cheek and silky black curls without breaking down, and Safiya took that as a sign she was healing, though Dee's heart was troubled by what might have been and by how she would tell Casavir what she had done. She and Safiya also insisted on giving them enough gold to pay for their oldest daughter's tuition either at _The Academy of Shapers and Binders_, or at the Academy in Neverwinter, where Dee thought she should have enough influence with Lord Nasher to gain her admittance.

When they returned to _The Veil Theater_, they arrived just in time to watch Gann filling in for Sweet William, who was indisposed after eating some bad mushroom soup, as the male lead in the third act of the current play, _Love Lies Bleeding. _The audience adored his death scene. They heard that several women and one man in the audience had fainted. Dee told him after he returned from his second standing ovation carrying an armload of flowers and a few women's small clothes that she would understand if he would rather stay, as Magda urged him to do, but Gann scoffed and patted her cheek. "No, fair leader, I have set my path to see you cured of this curse. I might return to the stage afterwards. Besides, I'm of a mind to travel to your homeland with you and meet these friends you've told us about, if you will have me."

The leader of the Slumbering Coven had told them what they had shown Nefris and Lienna: they would have to travel to the Astral Plane to find the dead god Myrkul, the author of the curse, if they wanted to learn how to end it. Though he had been killed by Mystra in the _Time of Troubles_, apparently some remnant of him still existed beyond death; dead gods weren't truly dead as long as they still had faithful worshipers offering prayers.

They had surmised on the way back to Mulsantir that the the portal that would take them to Myrkul was hidden somewhere in the _Academy of Shapers and Binders,_ probably near the same place the mysterious Founder kept her lair. It was certainly nowhere in her mother's quarters, though after Safiya had time to think about it, she had remembered her mother had a closet that Safiya had never actually seen the inside of. She smacked her forehead. "Of course the fourth portal in _The Veil_ leads back home too. Why didn't I see it before?" Not that they had been prepared to travel to Thay until now anyway, but it still frustrated her to overlook something so obvious.

Magda and her actors saw them off as they entered the portal in Lienna's room then ordered the golem to open the fourth portal in the shadow theater. But they immediately discovered it didn't lead them directly inside _The Academy of Shapers and Binders._ "That would have been too easy," Safiya groused as she indicated the structure which was down the hill in the distance. Instead, they found themselves exiting onto a barren hillside outside the school. It occurred to Safiya after they arrived that perhaps the Founder had altered the portal to prevent anyone but Nefris from teleporting directly inside and instead sent them a mile outside the gate, into a no-man's land populated by wyverns jealously guarding their nests. And that wasn't the worst fight they faced as they approached.

Several grueling battles later, Dee flicked her long sword to shake the blood from it then wiped it through the fur of a dead gnoll lying at her feet, one of many they were forced to kill to reach the inner gate. She muttered, "These sure as hells aren't like any gnoll I've ever encountered. Are they different in Thay, or do you use your magic to enhance them?"

Safiya was staring through the gate at the entrance of the sandstone building with a worried frown. A few red robed corpses were lying in the courtyard, and from the smell, had been lying there for tendays. She turned to glance for a moment at Dee and the dead gnolls before turning back to the gate. "Both. They are a more intelligent and stronger breed than your western gnoll, and we've found they make excellent guards. The question is were they being overzealous and attacking anyone who approached the gate, or were they told to watch for us? If it's the latter, that means Araman is expecting us."

Dee stood and joined her at the gate. "With what we know, I'd guess the latter. It stands to reason that Araman _would_ be expecting us suspecting that I was Akachi's puppet, compelled to complete his rebellion, and we would be coming to find your Founder. And he's looking for her too so he can be freed from the geas Myrkul put on him." They had learned that Araman, Akachi's brother and Myrkul's faithful priest, could not die until he destroyed his brother's lover and returned her soul to the Wall. Though this granted him a sort of immortality, it was an eternity of slavery serving Myrkul's will. Dee couldn't imagine a worse fate.

Gann joined them after casting a healing spell on Okku, who had personally killed half the gnolls. "This Founder of yours. Wouldn't she be very old? I understand that Myrkul's geas has kept Araman alive, but what about her?"

Safiya handed Kaji a small biscuit from a cache in a pouch on her belt then as a reward and scratched his head fondly. "Indeed. Assuming she's the original founder and Akachi's lover and that 'The Founder' isn't merely a hereditary title, it's possible she's still around because she successfully became a lich."

Kaelyn straightened a bent pin feather on her wing. "If she's a lich, would he not have to find her phylactery if he wants her soul? Isn't that how it works?"

Safiya shrugged, annoyed that she didn't have a ready answer. "The other possibility is that Myrkul's geas also keeps her alive, though I can't imagine what he would gain from not allowing her to die if it's her soul he wanted. My area of expertise is homoculi. Mother would have known if the Founder is a lich. Her area of expertise is the study of the soul, specifically splitting and combining souls."

Dee stared at her in horror and was about to ask why anyone would even want to experiment on splitting souls when Okku snuffed the air and interrupted her. "The door is open. But I smell a cloud of death beyond it." Cillian agreed with his elder brother that it smelled very bad, but at least none of the carcasses were moving. He hated moving carcasses as much as his companion did.

They all peered across the courtyard again. Dee couldn't make out the fine details at this distance, only the dark against the light that indicated an open doorway, having lost her first pair of spectacles fighting their way out of the Slumbering Coven's lair and having just lost the spare pair when a gnoll landed a blow with his club that sent them flying down the cliff. "So it is. It looks like a trap." Safiya nodded and sent Kaji ahead to scout, and he returned a few minutes later to tell them there was no one he could detect lying in ambush. It was silent as the grave now that all the gnolls were dead...too quiet for Dee's liking. She stared at the dark opening again and asked softly, "Is it possible everyone inside is dead?" For she could smell the reek of death on the breeze too. But Safiya discounted that notion immediately. If so, she thought the gnolls surely would have fled by now.

They crossed the courtyard quickly with Okku and Cillian on point. The bears took defensive positions on either side of the door as Dee sprinted across and flattened herself against the wall next to Cillian, her swords out and ready. She listened for a few heartbeats then motioned the others on. Safiya cast an invisibility spell on herself and Kaji and ran across the open ground, followed closely by Kaelyn. Once they had taken up positions on the other side of the door, Gann, who had been covering them with his bow, sprinted over to join them. On Dee's signal, they charged through the door.

But they found no one inside waiting for them. Chaos had reigned inside the cool stone walls of the Academy for some time. Once they looked they found that the door had been propped open to allow fresh air into the corridors. Sconces lit magically revealed a grisly scene in the hallways, illuminating more red-robed corpses that littered the floor. Some of them were fresh, while others were so badly decomposed they must have been had been lying where they fell tendays ago when Araman's coup began. But the fresh corpses told Dee that the revolt was still going on.

"Either that," Safiya whispered back, "or no one has stepped forward to take control yet, and all the petty grudges between various student factions have come to the surface."

Gann choked back bile at the sight of three corpses that had been laid out neatly on the floor and neatly vivisected, the various internal organs and brains placed in shallow bowls and carefully labeled. Further on it looked as if someone had made an effort to push most of the rest of the corpses to the sides to allow free passage. It was as if they were afraid to remove them, or a worse thought occurred to Dee, that they simply didn't care. Yet the most shocking discovery of all was made while they cautiously traveled down the halls following a droning male voice: spotting a pair of students carrying books looking around nervously while they waited outside a classroom. Classes were still in session, as if nothing had happened, and as if the place didn't reek like a charnel house!

Safiya identified the professor's voice as three bells chimed, signaling the end of the session, and whispered, "That's Master Djafi! We can trust him. He's known me since I was a child, and is probably the closest thing I've had to a father. He should be able to tell us what happened. Come on, he's just finishing his lecture."

They filed into the back of the room as the students were leaving. Every student froze and stared at them when they opened the door, and the elderly professor and several of the students looked as if they were beginning a spell. But the students immediately relaxed as they recognized Safiya, who had put on her red robe before they left Mulsantir. Several gave Safiya pleading looks as if they hoped she was here to take charge. However, two whispered together and slipped out another door in the front. Dee said quietly to her other companions, "I wouldn't be surprised if they left to tell Araman we're here. Better be ready."

Incredibly, three students came up to Safiya on their way out of class to complain about the marks they had been given by Master Anjali, who had taken over her classes while she was gone. It seemed he was one of those murdered by Araman's followers, and they complained that now they had no chance for a make-up assignment and would fail her class. Dee shook her head. Corpses piled up in the hallway, and all they could think about was their grades. Safiya muttered something, but she signed their forms and assigned them each a make-up report to write, admonished one of the students about the lowered neckline of her robe, and then curtly dismissed them.

Master Djafi shooed the remaining curious students out then cast a spell that sealed the doors, something he had routinely done once his classes were finished for the day, but even more so now. He explained that there were wards to prevent magical attacks in the classrooms, but not outside the doors. He led them into his adjacent office, where he showed them a fire place, a comfortable divan, a closet still stocked with food and emergency supplies, a bathroom with a basin enchanted to provide fresh water continuously, and a privy. Thus he hadn't needed to leave the safety of his classroom since the coup.

He embraced Safiya warmly. "I feared the worst when you did not return from wherever your mother sent you, but on the other hand, I'm glad you were safely away when this happened. I'm sorry, my child, but Araman killed your mother and then anyone else he thought would get in his way. What's bizarre is he hasn't taken control of the Academy. It's as if his attack was solely directed at your mother."

He told them that with there being no one left willing to oppose him, Araman and his followers had gone, trying to find the location of The Founder. The surviving faculty had been interrogated both magically and mundanely before they left, but Araman finally had to accept that they didn't know how Mistress Nefris contacted The Founder nor how to find her. In fact none of them except the oldest had ever even seen her, and those didn't believe she could still live. He said Araman and his followers hadn't been seen in tendays, but there was fear he was still lurking somewhere. He finally told them which few professors they could trust and warned them that he had heard student factions had now taken control of some parts of the Academy.

Safiya kissed his wrinkled cheek and thanked him. "We'll go out through the faculty hallway. I don't want to cause any more trouble for you than I already have." They slipped out the door and moved quietly down towards the classrooms of the other professors Master Djafi had named. But the other professors couldn't tell them any more than Master Djafi had.

Once they crossed back to the student hallways, they were attacked twice, once by students wanting to gain favor with Araman, and once by students who had ganged up seeking revenge for being given a failing mark by Safiya or her mother. But she demonstrated her superior skill and the students' comparative lack of skill in the resulting magical duel, proving to her that the failing grade was justly deserved as her Chain Lightning spell finally killed three of them. A final student dropped to her knees and begged for mercy. Safiya snarled, "Mercy! Very well, but consider yourself expelled! You will pack your things and leave immediately, or I will sic my friend the spirit eater here, or the bears on you."

She suggested they head downstairs to her private quarters where she had her own emergency cache of supplies and then to the infirmary to restock on healing potions, as Gann and Kaelyn had used the bulk of their healing spells. After that they could decide what their next move should be. They heard young, brash voices and laughter coming from a room near the stairs, and Safiya marched over to investigate before anyone could stop her. She was outraged to find a student had taken over the golem laboratory and had turned it into a gambling den. What made her turn almost apoplectic was that he had the nerve to ask if they wanted to participate.

She scowled and wagged her finger in his face, shrieking, "Artesh! This is _not _a proper use of Academy resources. You will clean up this mess immediately!" Dee and they others braced for another attack, but the students picked up their things and filed out of the room sullenly, though a few grumbled loudly about how she needed to get laid.

They steered Safiya down the stairs before she could become distracted again, and she led the way to her room, where she uttered a loud sigh of relief after bolting the door. Dee looked around. "Looks like Araman's people already tore apart your room."

Safiya glanced at the condition of her room as if seeing it for the first time then ran around it picking up discarded clothing and books, a deep blush coloring her golden cheeks. "I uh...wish I could blame this all on the coup, but..." She shrugged sheepishly. "In my defense, my mother sent me off with no notice whatsoever, and I certainly wasn't expecting company."

Gann whispered to Dee, "I think despite her protests this is the normal state of her chambers."

They took a too brief rest while Safiya pressed on a panel behind her bed, which caused a small door to pop open, revealing an assortment of wands and potions as well as two scroll cases. All of the instructors had similar caches, she suspected, and she suggested looting some of their quarters on their way to the infirmary. When they were ready to go on she carefully opened the door and let Kaji out to scout then led the way to the infirmary once he returned with word that the way was clear.

When they reached the infirmary, the others stood guard at the doorways as Dee accompanied Safiya and Kaji to raid the supply closet, hoping that they hadn't already been looted. As they passed by the neat row of beds, Safiya did a double take. "Bebtu? Dee, this is one of my mother's research assistants!"

But Dee was having her own startling reunion. She froze eyes wide in shock as they passed another occupied bed and gasped, "Is it possible? Ammon Jerro!" She dropped to her knees beside his cot and called his name. He stared straight ahead and didn't acknowledge her as she took his face in his hands and tried in vain to awaken him. "He looks like he's in a coma. Gann?"

Gann and Kaelyn both came over to help. Gann muttered as they examined him, "Jerro. This is the warlock you told us of, correct? I've never seen anything like this. He's fine, physically, but it's as if..."

Kaelyn finished for him as she examined the warlock. "He has no soul!"

Dee muttered as she moved back to let them work, "Yeah, we used to say that about him." She shook her head and continued, "'Tis true enough it belongs to any number of fiends. But not until he's dead, which he isn't. Can you do anything for him?" She glanced over at Safiya, who was having more success talking softly with her friend Bebtu.

Safiya joined the others and whispered excitedly, "Bebtu was able to tell me Mother replaced his soul with an artificial one she crafted so he would be safe from Araman. It's enough to keep him alive, though just...Apparently it also serves as a key for that mysterious door I told you about. He has a message from her for us too, but he cannot tell me what it is until he's been restored and the artificial soul has been removed. It was mother's safeguard in case something happened to her."

"What about Ammon? What the hells did she do to him?" Dee didn't mean that to be as accusatory as it sounded, but it was obvious to her that something terrible was done to him because he tried to stop the gargoyles from abducting her.

Safiya replied defensively, "It's not as if she murdered him. He's only incapacitated. No doubt she did it to protect herself from him and intended to restore him when you got here. You told us he had a bad temper and that he murdered his own granddaughter."

Dee tried without success not to give her an angry glare and was glad that Casavir hadn't been able to try to follow as well. "Yeah, no doubt. Can you restore him if we find his soul? I have a feeling that if she stashed it anywhere in this building, it's being kept safe by those pit fiends down the hall we saw on the way here."

Safiya flushed again, never having been conscious of the evil she had been surrounded by her entire life until she saw her life through the eyes of these new friends and companions. "I can, but we have to go back upstairs to the soul repository in the library to find Bebtu's first."

Dee asked Kaelyn and Okku to stay and guard Bebtu and Jerro and led the way, muttering about why the hells they would even need a "soul repository."

An hour later, they had in their possession a pair of glowing, brightly colored globes. Dee wanted to bathe in scalding water to wash away the feeling of filth that clung to her, disgusted by what she had been forced to do to bargain with the pit fiends to regain Ammon Jerro's soul. She sat on the floor beside his cot and tried to pray as Safiya and Kaelyn leaned over his body, but she feared her gods wouldn't listen to her. Cillian nuzzled her, but she didn't want to touch him as if that might contaminate him as well.

She was only slightly aware of Safiya's actions as she put one of the globes to Bebtu's head and muttered an incantation. Safiya handed the globe, which now had an eerie green glow, to Kaelyn to hold while she turned her attention to Ammon Jerro. A moment later, he coughed and groaned and Dee almost pushed Safiya over as she jumped up and knelt beside the warlock. "Ammon? Can you hear me?"

The warlock sat up slowly and glared angrily at Safiya as he soon as he spotted her. "You!" He would have cast his most fearsome eldritch blast at her, but he was too weak to summon the dark energy. But he became aware of Dee leaning over him calling his name with the bear beside her. He wasn't sure it was her she was so changed, but there was no mistaking the bear. "Captain? Is that you? I saw them take you...I tried to go after you when those things carried you through the portal, but that crone and that one..." he glared and pointed at Safiya, but then he dropped his arm and peered at her. "No, not her...no, this one is younger, though the face is the same. They sent me away somewhere..." He ignored Safiya's sullen protestation that it was her mother, not her, who had done this to him.

Dee put her arm around Jerro and helped him stand. He stretched the stiffness from his body, but still moved as if his age had caught up to him. "Safiya, is your friend able to be moved? We should take them back to your room so we can talk without looking over our shoulders for Araman." She helped the warlock walk as Gann helped Bebtu and Okku and Cillian led the way. He was weak, but he was coming out of the mental fog and muttering about what had happened to him. Dee whispered, "I'm afraid I need your help again, Ammon. I've been cursed, and we're going to have to take on a god to break it. I'll explain when we get there."

Half an hour later they sat in Safiya's room, waiting while Dee explained the events of the past six tendays to him, while Safiya spoke quietly with Bebtu and took notes on his instructions. Dee sighed sadly. "This is one of those 'I told you so' moments, Ammon. I can't say you didn't warn me about keeping a low profile so I wouldn't attract the attention of those who wanted to use my skills for their own ends. For the first few days, all I thought about was getting back home. Now all I think about is living long enough to end this curse."

Ammon listened as he greedily drained a water skin. He turned to regard the wasted woman he wouldn't have recognized if she hadn't called to him. "Indeed I did warn you. But in fairness to you, it was because I had to learn that bitter lesson myself, more than once." He looked across the room then back into Dee's eyes as they waited for Safiya. "Tell me-do you remember what happened as we tried to leave the ruined temple?"

Dee shook her head. "No, nothing after the place started collapsing around us like in my dream. Safiya thought I must have taken a blow to the head that caused memory loss. I don't think it's from the curse, though that seems to be destroying my memories too."

Jerro grunted and coolly told her what he had seen, beginning by telling her that Khelgar saw her being taken too and tried to help. "The creature spit something at him, probably some sort of venom. He nearly dodged it, but it hit him and forced him back. I made it through and found myself face to face with a pair of Red Wizards, one of whom recognized me from when I studied in Thay ages ago." He continued, telling her about their other companions, what he had seen, or thought he had seen.

She listened quietly, avoiding asking him about the person dearest to her he hadn't mentioned yet, and she sensed in her gut he was avoiding him too. When the warlock paused, she replied, "I think you're wrong about Grobby. He had a hatch built into the construct's back. He wanted to make it so he could ride inside it and control it. If he managed to get inside, I think it would have given him shelter enough until a search party dug him out. And Elanee had any number of spells that she could have used to escape, or forms she could assume. She is a very powerful druid. Would an air or water elemental have been destroyed by falling stone? Hells, she could have turned into a mouse and hidden under Sand if he did become an iron golem." He grunted in annoyance in reply, his arms folded across his chest, as he usually did when she argued with him.

After a few moments of silence, she couldn't take the suspense any longer. "You haven't said anything about...I think I remember going back for Cas." She looked at him pleadingly.

He nodded. "Your paladin true to form was ensuring the others got out. You did turn back, and I saw the ceiling begin to fall on you both just before that portal opened. I didn't stop you; frankly, I thought it was your right to die by his side if that was your wish. Those gargoyles may have saved you by snatching you away, but your paladin was buried in the rubble."

Dee fought back tears, shaking her head in denial. "No! I don't believe it. I've seen him in my dreams and been in his dream. Gann has too. I _know_ he's alive."

He folded his arms again defiantly. "And I know what I saw, Captain, and you would be better off if you would accept it, as difficult as it is for your to hear. There's no point in arguing about this. Let us focus on the task at hand and find the way to free you."

But Dee was defiant too. "Then the rescue party got him out and resurrected him if they had to. I _know_ he's alive!"

Safiya interrupted with a hand on Dee's shoulder. "I know where to find the other 'keys' to mother's door." She bit her lip before she continued. "I'm afraid you're not going to like it as we'll have to deal with the pit fiends again. Are you ready to go on?"

Dee wiped her eyes and stood. "Ready as I'll ever be. Let's do this."

She fully accepted that she needed to perform some great penance to make up for what they had to do to gain the students' souls that served as keys to open the way to the portal; in fact she welcomed the opportunity to begin her penance immediately, if one of the gods had offered. But if seemed worth it for a heartbeat when they fit the four globes in the slots and the 'closet' door opened, behind which was the portal that would take them to Myrkul. Araman, lurking invisibly, had gone through as soon as they got the door open, having left his minions behind to to stall them while he sought the Founder. Master Djafi stood with Araman's wizards only until Araman was gone, and then with little persuasion on her part he joined Safiya. In the aftermath, Safiya only had a moment to to spare to say farewell to him after Kaelyn brought him back from the brink of death. He asked her to forgive him and promised that he and Master Poruset would take charge of the Academy until she returned.

Dee stared into the shimmering colors of the portal as Kaji looted the dead Red Wizards, at least those who hadn't been reduced to cinders. All of the spell casters had used up their spells, and they had broken into their supply of wands and scrolls already. What remained and their weapons would have to be enough. There was no time to rest or reequip. They had to reach the Founder before Araman did. Her companions joined her, including Ammon Jerro. She said softly, "Are we ready?"

Gann grinned at her. "Ready and waiting. Let's finish this dream. I'm beginning to grow accustomed to traveling through space."

Dee grinned back sardonically. "I'm happy for you, Gannyev. Teleporting still makes me want to puke."

The Astral Plane was unlike anything Dee could have imagined. The portal led them to a massive skeleton which seemed to float in the ether. They could see other large masses off in the distance. Zhjave had told her once that the Githzerai and the Githyanki made their homes on these skeletal remains of the dead gods. This was a dreary place, drained of color and sound. The air was very still. It was warmer than Dee expected and oddly humid, which explained Zhjaeve's manner of dress.

Gann nudged her out of her reverie and pointed out a handful of dragon knights, still faithful to their god, who kept a vigil at the base of the skeleton's spine. They expected a fight, but their leader instead directed them to climb along the god's spine to reach his skull where Myrkul would grant them an audience. Their Lord was expecting them, it seemed.

Dark flames burned in the sockets of the god's eyes proving that he still clung to some semblance of life. Dee had never been more conscious of her mortality since that night Tyr spoke to her in his temple, and she felt she couldn't resist bowing before this god, evil as he was. He greeted her like an old acquaintance and tolerated her questions. Yet he told her nothing she didn't already know. But she pressed him further, sensing there was more to the story and noting that he seemed proud of his actions. So using flattery, she encouraged him to talk about his grand plan. Grobnar would have been proud of her, and later she would reflect that she might have even made a decent bard if she had been raised by Esmerelle rather than Daeghun.

She remembered something the devil Mephasm had once said about seeing plots within plots, and that was what she felt she was uncovering the more she encouraged the dead god to talk. If he saw through her, he didn't show it. There was so much more that Dee could see than the basic story, that Akachi had rebelled against his god after his faithless lover had died and been sent to her rightful place in the Wall. Yet Myrkul was a god, and she believed he could have stopped Akachi's rebellion before they got through the gate. But he allowed Akachi to free his love and restore her to life, then forced him to take her place, where every remnant of his humanity had been stripped from him. All that remained was the Hunger, that had possessed him, and then every spirit eater after him. But Dee could see the plot behind the plot, and she called him on it.

It was as if she was reading the story in a book or could see it in someone else's dreams...or memories. Was there some shred of Akachi remaining that through his outrage at his betrayal by his god showed her the true plot? Was it one of the gods she prayed to? Everything from the real cause of death of the Red Woman due to Myrkul distracting of her while she cast a deadly spell to Akachi's betrayal of him to free her from the Wall had become evident to her. It had been done according to plan.

But to what purpose? Why torture a faithful priest by killing his love? Jealousy possibly; he had the reputation of being a jealous god who tolerated no others before him, but she could sense more. Dee listened carefully, trying to decipher his true intention. Then it was as if the sun had come out from behind a cloud forcing the shadows of deception to flee. It came to her, though she still wasn't sure if she reasoned it out, or if one of the other gods granted her the wisdom to see it. Or if she could see it because she had a fraction of Myrkul's essence within her.

She smiled her most brilliant smile at the smug, grinning skull. "You imbued the Wall with some of your own divine power when you created it, and part of that has been transferred through the Hunger and is now inside me. How wise of you to have foreseen your own death. You must have looked over your priests and seen Akachi's heart was divided and known what would provoke his rebellion. You were only dealing with a traitorous minion on the surface, but there was so much more to your plan. This curse allows you to cling to life until you can regain enough power to reclaim your godhood...it's brilliant, really."Somewhere in the back of her mind she thought she should be trembling in fear, but she was eerily calm, and in truth, she was awed by the scope of his plan.

The dead god boomed, "Yes, it was brilliant, child. And if you allowed me inside you, I could live again much sooner through you. Through me, you would become a god. Think of all you could do with even a fraction of my power."

Dee stared at him in wide-eyed wonder. "Me, a god? Think of all the good I could do! But I would need to go to your former realm and free the part of me that has taken Akachi's place."

Myrkul smiled at her, pleased that she was considering his offer. Not that he had expected otherwise. Mortals were so very predictable. He intended to share his power with her briefly until he had grown enough that he had no need of her body, and then he would consume her. "Yes, you would need to use the key to the portal in my temple that will take you to my former realm. There we will deal with the usurper Kelemvor and I will take my rightful place. And you...you could have your heart's desire. You only need the key, which the Red Woman took from you."

Dee gasped. It made sense now. Akachi had been a sword bearer before her. Why hadn't she questioned how he had he gotten the sword? Had Myrkul used it to create the lock then given it as a gift to his faithful priest, telling him that it would allow him private access to his realm? "The key is the Sword of Gith? But it's shattered. I was able to control the shards while one of them was inside me, but now..." She tried to look crestfallen, as if she wasn't going to become a goddess after all.

Her companions exchanged brief knowing looks as they stood back and watched, close enough to fight if she needed them, but not so close as to distract from her audience They had gotten to know her well enough to know that she could play the 'dumb female' role when it suited her purpose. But Gann and Okku kept a wary eye on Myrkul's faithful below them.

Myrkul replied with a deep, booming laugh. "The Red Woman has had centuries to develop the skill to reform the sword. That is why she has taken it, in hopes that you would use it to free Akachi. But he is long gone. Nothing remains of the man she loved. I can open a portal that will take us to her. Then you may take the sword from her and do what you wish with her. Use my power and allow me inside you when you devour my essence."

Okku growled, "I see the portal now!"

Dee looked down his spine to see and saw his faithful camped below. "But what about your faithful minions here? They'll think I destroyed you."

He chuckled. "I will deal with them. They will stand aside, or we shall feed on them. It makes no difference." Myrkul was growing impatient. Something didn't seem right, and the dead god examined this woman. But he knew he had to use patience and take care not to frighten her or he would have no choice but to wait for the next Spirit Eater.

She smiled kindly. "Or I could use your power to put you to Eternal Rest."

The flames flickered in his eye sockets as he began to comprehend what she was saying. He sputtered, "What?"

But she had already summoned forth the power. She had never tried it on any undead as powerful as he, but she knew in her heart she could do it. The Hunger reached out and enveloped him in a heartbeat. She thought she heard a final "No!" but she was focused on sending the god to whatever afterlife awaited him as should have been.

Okku growled, "We are under attack!" and charged the Dragon Knights as Gann fired off two arrows and Safiya began a spell to paralyze the closest of the attackers. Ammon Jerro snarled as he summoned his darkest energies, and Kaelyn followed Okku. Cillian stayed by Dee's side to protect her from attack. He didn't understand what she was doing, but he knew it was important.

A few heartbeats later the flames in the dead god's eye sockets flickered out. Dee took a step back and staggered, but it was finished. She drew her swords and turned, marching steadfastly towards the portal. She was scarcely aware of slashing one of the charging Dragon Knights with her swords. She walked past him as Cillian mauled him then walked past her companions. Cillian caught up with her as the battle waned. The bear nuzzled her and looked up at her. She said grimly, "Come on, my love. Let's get that bitch who stole my life!"


	54. You Can't Keep a Bad Man Down

Chapter 54 You Can't Keep a Bad Man Down,

or A Bad Man is a Pain to Find

Usual disclaimers: None of the characters in this chapter are owned by me, but rather by a whole lot of other corporate people.

Note: I nearly changed Elanee's deity in this chapter because it's always bugged me that an Elven druid would worship a human god rather than an Elven god like Rillifane Rallathil, especially considering she was raised by Elven druids. But in the end I went with NWN2 canon.

Warning: This chapter contains harsh and "M" rated language. But what else would you expect from Bishop, especially when he's been rudely awakened?

Sand and Elanee exchanged looks, hers worried, his puzzled. Sand leaned close to her and whispered in Elven, "Oh my...That wasn't supposed to happen, was it?"

"No, not at all!" Elanee shook her head as she whispered back, though she understood that it was a rhetorical question. "I'll try to find out what happened." She drew back and began a prayer to commune with her god for guidance, though she suspected she knew the reason the spell had gone wrong.

"How...Fuck!...What the hells happened?" Bishop coughed dryly as he tried to remember how he got here. "Last thing I remember was the fireball." He spit out something into his hand and peered at it in the faint light coming from the mage's glowing circlet and gagged as he saw that it was dead worms. He threw them on the ground in disgust. "Is that a fucking joke?" He studied his surroundings. He was sitting up in a cave where it looked like someone had partially removed a rock wall built to seal up the end—his end. His pack and his bow were lying beside him, he was wrapped in his cloak, and everything he wore was scorched.

Karnwyr had jumped the wall and was at his side, licking his face again. He hugged the wolf to him, burying his face in his fur and inhaling his comforting, musky scent deeply, then looked around again trying to make sense of this. The druid was kneeling muttering a prayer, and the pansy mage was right beside her but watching him. He could make out a large shape behind them both that could only be the paladin, and he could hear others behind him. He ran his hands through his hair and recoiled in horror at the large bald patches of scar tissue covering his head. At that moment he also realized that he could only see well through one eye.

Sand muttered, "I really don't need to cast the Polymorph spell. I hardly recognize him."

" Poly-morph?" Bishop parroted him dumbly trying to make sense of the word. "Why? What the hells did you do to me?" But as he took in his scorched leathers and cloak again, it came to him. This was his grave. They must have buried him here after that Luskan bitch had finished him off with her fireball. Not a bad job of it either; not a shallow grave and a quick scattering of dirt and leaves, but a real tomb to keep the scavengers out so his carcass could rot in peace. Even he had to appreciate their taking the time to build it and taking care to leave his things beside him. Wasn't anything _he_ would have done for any of them, but he appreciated the effort. Almost.

Casavir spoke up. "Yes, Bishop. A Polymorph spell, so you're not recognized. You're a wanted man in Neverwinter's territory, and Luskan's too I imagine." He handed Bishop a water skin. "Drink this slowly. You should be fully restored but..."

Bishop sneered at him after he took a drink, rinsed his mouth, and spit out a few more worms, and then blew a few more out of his nostrils. "Figures you wouldn't have anything stronger." He took another deep drink. The water was lukewarm, but it still tasted like the most delicious water he had ever drunk, not that he would let his holiness know that. Karnwyr took his arm in his mouth and tugged, trying to get him to move. "I'm comin', mutt. Give me a minute."

He grabbed his pack and his Duskwood bow, cursing as he took stock of the ruined string. But the bow itself still seemed sturdy enough. The thing about long bows is they were nearly ruined in the process of making them, tillering the wood to form an even arch when drawn, so it was just a matter of time until they shattered when drawn back. But Duskwood was known for being not only being stronger, but more pliable. He still had arrows in his quiver too, and even some of the enchanted ones. He wouldn't have left them behind with a corpse, but then he wasn't a sentimental fool. He scowled at the implication that they had honored him by taking such pains, despite everything he had done.

Sand moved out of his way as he climbed over the rocks, but the druid appeared to be in a trance. Casavir also moved back to make room for him in the small cave. Bishop looked around again and made out the fiendling and the brat Wolf standing just outside, who he figured must be doing ranger duty for them these days with him gone. But what about _her_? Something the paladin had said when they were bound together in the Luskan's bag of holding nagged at his memory. "So what the fuck happened? I was _dead_, wasn't I?" Casavir nodded. "So what do you want? Must be something big to bring me back from..." His words trailed off as a deep shudder of revulsion at a barely perceptible memory nearly made him double over and collapse to his knees and vomit out the water he had just drunk.

Casavir replied tersely, "Indeed, you were dead. Bishop, you must listen, and you must help us. My wife's life depends upon it."

Bishop shoved his distress deep inside himself as he took another drink and wiped his mouth, and growled, "I don't have to do a damned thing for you, or for her." That's who was missing, besides the dwarf and the half-man. He remembered it now. She had been spirited away by monsters, that's what his holiness had told him when he was trying to get them untied. Bishop shuddered again, being positive he had _just_ seen her. But the memory was fading,dissolving into vapors like a puddle of water on a hot day. He sneered again. "Figures you wouldn't bring me back out of the goodness of your heart."

Sand tossed his silky black hair and sneered back at him. "You _really_ have no idea about the goodness of our hearts, ranger. Otherwise you would have been interred in the _Tomb of the Betrayers ___where many feel you belong and not out here in this peaceful forest. I suggest you shut your mouth and listen to Casavir."

Bishop responded with a vile gesture, which he was annoyed to discover was difficult to make because of the scarred skin stiffening his fingers. He didn't even want to think of how that would affect his draw, and he scowled at Sand as if his predicament was his fault. "What the hells happened anyway? I thought I heard a resurrection spell brings the body back whole. What, you felt like torturing me once you raised me?"

"Oh, Bishop..." Elanee's eyes opened slowly, and everyone turned their attention to her. She replied with exasperation after taking a moment to recover, "Honestly. What has any of us ever done to make you think that? No, however, I've learned Silvanus allowed me to bring you back to life, but he didn't grant the full force of the spell because...he didn't feel you were worthy. I'm sorry, Bishop, but being faithless, he might have declined to grant me the power to bring you back at all."

Bishop relied bitterly, "Figures. That's why _I _never put stock in the gods like the rest of the sheep. All that mindless devotion, bowing and scraping, dirt-poor mothers giving what few coppers they managed to earn to the priests when they had hungry brats at home who had to do without, oh, but they had the blessing of whatever charlatan priest was passing through and a promise that things would be better in the next life..." His eye clouded painfully at the memory of him and his brothers chewing roots or whatever they could find or steal to stave off hunger, and his grandfather beating them for complaining and beating her for birthing them. That was part of what drove him out into the wild in the first place when he was young. Too young, but he survived. He cursed bitterly again as he felt a tear well up in his good eye. These fools wouldn't see him weak.

Elanee shook her head sadly as the ranger revealed far more than he intended. "But surely you know by now the gods exist, Bishop. It's not as if we expect you to worship Silvanus, Tyr or Illmater. Surely there must be one god whom you could respect, even if it's one of the dark gods—Shar, Malar, Talos..."

He glared daggers at her, but she held his gaze firmly. He finally looked down and changed the subject. "So where's the Captain?" As he spoke Wolf and Neeshka crawled into the cave to get out of a sudden downpour, as if it wasn't crowded enough already. There were so many of them trapped in this small space Bishop was finding it hard to breathe. His heart was pounding. Karnwyr whimpered and licked his hand.

"Allow me to explain." Casavir told him of her abduction and their fruitless search for the past two months, ending with his strange dream. "She was adamant that I had to have you resurrected immediately, no matter what the impediment. I have a feeling that it was because she needed you to help us find her, though another theory has occurred to some of us on the way here."

Neeshka spoke up from where she had squeezed in behind Casavir, looking over Casavir's shoulder to meet the ranger's eye. "Yeah, some of us I think there's nothing_ you_ can do to find her either. We think she found out you were in the Wall and wanted us to get you out, and nothing more. But we came anyway, for her, just in case."

Bishop swore again and wiped the sweat away from his face, which was pouring down his forehead despite the coolness in the cave. That did sound exactly like something _she_ would do, cross time and space to send his holiness a message to rescue him. She was soft that way, unlike him. But he was canny enough to see that he could use this to his advantage and score a dig on the paladin too.

"Yeah, well you know what I think? You sound like you've been smoking black lotus. You should lay off the pipe, your holiness, before they lock you up in Ilmater's loony bin." He grinned seeing the angry scowl on the paladin's face, but as soon as the words left his mouth that strange feeling of stark terror returned, and he didn't like the dark place the thoughts of her were trying to take him. His head was spinning, and Karnwyr whined in alarm and licked his hand. He needed to get out of here. His hand slipped to the knife in his boot.

Casavir was pleading now. "I know it sounds mad, Bishop, but please, stay for her if she ever meant anything at all to you. She's the only one who never lost faith in you, not even after you betrayed her."

Bishop shoved past him roughly. It was all he could do not to draw his blade and gut the fool. "Get out of my way!"

There was fire in Elanee's eyes as she blocked his way, and her voice was firm as stone. "Bishop, you should know that Silvanus has granted me the power to resurrect you, not for your sake but for her sake. Dee is a faithful worshiper of his daughter, and I get the sense that even Meilikki cannot help Dee where she is. But I also sense he allowed it on the contingency that you are worthy of his attention, and my effort. The message I feel is that if you don't want his gift and won't help us, he will take it back."

The thought of going back _ there_ (though he wasn't clear where that was) triggered an involuntary shiver, though he told himself that oblivion wasn't so bad compared to being trapped with these bleating sheep. "So? Take it back then, or get out of my way." He didn't know how this worked for sure, but he thought she was bluffing and called her on it.

Karnwyr growled and gave him a nip on the arm that was reaching for the knife as if he could hear his thoughts. And for the first time, Bishop realized he really _could_ hear real words, not just emotions, coming from the wolf, something that hadn't happened since the first day they found one another. It froze him in his tracks and made him rethink his course as he rubbed the bite. "Or tell me what I get out of it." He looked at Karnwyr again to be sure, but there was no mistaking the deep sense of loss the wolf was conveying to him at the thought of losing his bonded again. The wolf let him know he had mourned him, and Bishop felt a tugging at his own heart as he gave the wolf another hug."It's alright, mutt. I missed you too."

Sand patted Elanee's shoulder as she was near tears and took over the negotiations, replying smoothly, "What's in it for you, you ask? Why only a new face, a new name, a new beginning. Add to that enough coin that you could go anywhere you want. Isn't that incentive enough? Casavir and I had already agreed that if you had lived to stand trial, we would have felt compelled to join forces to defend you because we knew you were under the sway of Black Garius's geas. But neither of us has enough confidence in Neverwintan justice to think that we could save you from hanging even after proving your _relative_ innocence, nor did we feel that your helping him try to escape the Luskans would have been taken into consideration. No, you were headed for the gallows, and still will be, if you're discovered. We had thought we would have to change your appearance to avoid that, and I am prepared to use my own magics to give you a form of your choosing. That is, _if _you cooperate."

He pulled a delicate glassteel mirror from his belt pouch and held it up. "Consider yourself, ranger. Not many women would want you as you are, even with an offer of a handful of gold." Sand studied the ranger's reaction and began formulating a plan of casting his own geas if need be, also being of a mind that what the paladin didn't know wouldn't hurt him if it was for the greater good.

Bishop stared at his reflection, half his scalp burned, and with scarring that covered the right side of his face. He blinked twice and suppressed a shudder of revulsion before steeling himself again and replying with a shrug, "It's not so bad."

He had almost convinced himself of that. Screw it. All he needed was the mutt and the wild anyway. But the idea of a clean slate began to sink in and appealed to him even more. Freedom! No more looking over his shoulder. As far as anyone but these people in this cave knew, he was dead, and he knew he could buy their silence if he played along. It wasn't lost on the ranger either that by helping him escape Neverwintan justice, they were implicating themselves in his crimes. So he decided he would go along, depending on what they needed of him, as long as he wasn't stepping into another snare. "What do you want from me? How do you expect me to find her when the best of Neverwinter hasn't been able to? I can't believe you're that impressed by my skills. Sounds like a fool's errand to me, but I'll hear you out."

Casavir looked visibly relieved. "I've been thinking about that on the way here. Perhaps if there was a way to help you remember what you talked of when you saw her, we could learn how to help her."

Bishop was skeptical again, and he didn't trust giving himself over to their power." And that means submitting to your spells? I don't like the idea of you messing around with my mind."

Elanee replied, "Yes. But Elder Naevan also taught me a technique that he learned from a shaman that I think...no, I know I could replicate. I would put you into a trance and explore your hidden mind. I would enter a trance as well and accompany you to the Astral Plane so I can guide you there and back. But Sand also has spells we could use if you're not willing."

Bishop frowned. "A trance? How?" He trusted her more than the mage.

Elanee tried to reassure him. "It's safe enough if you have a guide. I think what you really fear is going back to that dark place, but I shall be at your side, and our animal companions will be there as well to watch over our journey. They travel to the Astral Plane much easier than we do." Elanee reached out and touched his arm, and Karnwyr licked his face and told Bishop to trust her.

He ruffled the wolf's fur and received another fond lick, but he was still skeptical and looking for the loopholes in the agreement. "What if there isn't anything to remember? How do I know you won't go back on our agreement?"

Casavir answered immediately. "I swear by Tyr that I will honor our agreement, and I promise you I will see to it that these others do as well. You will be free to go wherever you choose, and as far as anyone else knows, you're dead."

"May my horns fall off, and may I lose my lucky coin if I go back on my part of the agreement. There. Come on, Bish!" Neeshka held out her hand to him.

Bishop looked around at the faces of his former companions and for a moment felt something he couldn't identify, but it came to him—shame. He scowled, having thought he was finished with that useless emotion when he was a boy, the day his grandfather took him into the barn alone... He killed his grandfather later of course, but not until he was a few years older and stronger, and even then not until one day when he knew that his his grandfather had the same plan for his younger brother. He slit his throat like the pig he was instead and left for Luskan then and never looked back until he returned with his assassin squad. He was ashamed of that too. But this shame as he looked around at his former companions' faces was different. "Does it have to be here? I think you can understand I want to get out of this cave. I don't think I like everyone watching either."

Sand gestured at the entrance. "I already cast a shelter that we're using to camp in and to stable the horses. I will cast a a smaller one that we can use for the ritual as soon as you're ready. Only Elanee and Casavir need be present, though I will remain as well in the event that Elanee has need of my spells." Neeshka looked as if she was about to complain, but a look from Sand silenced her.

Wolf and Neeshka led the way out of the cave. Bishop breathed a sigh of relief as he impatiently waited for the others to get out of his way. It was all he could do not to shove them aside and run as fast as his legs would carry him, though he knew he wouldn't get far. He was weak. The druid brought him back, but only with a sliver of life. Even the brat could kill him as weak as he was right now.

Karnwyr gave him another stern nip on the arm. "_No run. It's time for you to learn to join the pack, brother. You're not a bear or a mountain cat who goes his way alone. Even the bear woman knows enough to join with others._"

Bishop blinked dumbly at him and pulled away from the wolf feeling ashamed again and muttered, "I don't want to look different. I liked my looks."

Casavir was hard behind him and replied gently as if speaking to a petulant child. "Surely you must see how impossible your situation would be. Your face is too well known. Lord Nasher had wanted posters sent throughout the territory after you sabotaged the gate."

Bishop considered that for a moment, having a perverse need to know what his villainy was worth. "Yeah? How much of a reward?"

"A thousand gold alive, five hundred dead. More than enough to make you a target for those capable of apprehending you, and more than enough to tempt the desperate to try their luck. Enough to tempt some to dig up your body if they knew where you were out here." He prayed silently for Tyr to give him strength. Perhaps dealing with the ranger was some sort of penance he had to perform to get her back. But it would be worth it.

Casavir stooped when he reached the entrance and stepped out into the rain. "Neeshka, Wolf, please await us in the barn. I know you would like to be there, but the fewer distractions for Elanee, the better." They looked disappointed, but went off without a word though Neeshka's tail drooped dejectedly. He stood aside and waited for the others, again offering a prayer of thanks to Tyr that they had some hope of finding Dee.

Sand paused at the entrance to the cave and turned back to face the ranger. "I can word the Polymorph spell to make you appear however you wish. It occurs to me I could even make you into an animal or a woman if you wished. Or a younger version of yourself, perhaps? Young enough that even if you were recognized, you would be thought to be only a younger relation."

He replied with a sardonic laugh. "Yeah, like I'd ever want to be female once the novelty of touching myself wore off. But I admit a wolf is tempting. But no, I like being a man." Bishop took a deep breath of the rain-freshened air ignoring the soaking he was getting, glad to be out of the confinement of his tomb. "Younger though...that does interest me. Not as young as the kid there, mind you...I don't need the zits and a cock that gets stiff at every breeze that goes along with being that age." Karnwyr gave him another happy lick and bounded out of the cave and barked at him to join him.

Sand muttered something unintelligible as he stepped outside and removed the components he needed from his pouch, ignoring the downpour that quickly soaked his robe and plastered his hair to his head. In a few heartbeats, after a few words and gestures he had conjured a cozy hut. He walked over and opened the door and smiled at them as if he was a new householder inviting the neighbors over, waving them inside. It was cozy, a bed against the far wall, a small fireplace, a comfortable chair for Sand near the fire, another larger chair for Casavir near the door, and a pile of furs on the floor for Bishop.

Though it was clear from his expression he still didn't trust them, Bishop sat cross-legged on the furs, and Karnwyr circled the floor three times then lay beside him. Elanee loosened her robe and sat on another fur where she went through her own pouches as Naloch snuggled next to her.

There was a soft knock on the door, and Casavir hid his annoyance as he leaned over to open it. Neeshka stood there, holding a pack out in her hands and stretching to see inside. "I uhh grabbed some things for Bishop I thought he would need before we left the Keep and wanted to give them to him. He can't very well go anywhere in what he's wearing. Oh, and Sand, you should make him half-elven. That would disguise him for sure." She handed the pack to Casavir as Sand looked at her aghast. "Well it was just a suggestion. I didn't say you should make him fully Elven." After straining again to catch another curious glance at what was going on in the hut, she reluctantly melted back into the rain.

Sand sniffed, "May as well make him a tiefling then."

Elanee looked up from her preparations. "I think her idea has merit, and being partially of the people would only strengthen his bond with Nature." She shrugged at the incredulous looks Bishop and Sand both gave her. But a heartbeat later, she could tell they were both considering it.

Casavir shut the door once he was sure Neeshka wasn't lingering outside and handed the pack to Bishop. "You will need a new name as well. What was your name? I can't imagine it really was Bishop." He took his journal from his own pack along with a charcoal and began to sketch quickly.

Bishop frowned, as thinking about a past that had been dead and he hadn't lived in years dredged up more pain. "You'd be wrong then. My name? Nothin' I care to go back to. It was 'Bishop Shepard,' nothing special. It was my family's, but it was almost everyone's name in Red Fallow Watch, or it seemed like it anyway. Bunch of inbred fools."

He looked through the pack. The tiefling had thought of everything—she had gotten him a new pine green cloak and a set of leathers oiled to help him move silently, a few linen shirts, trewes, and several pairs of wool socks and some small clothes. In the pocket in front he found three new bow strings and a jig for making more. He figured the kid was responsible for that addition. The rest was basic supplies like a flint and steel and a small hatchet. It was everything he would need if he left now. They really meant it. Even if there was nothing to tell, he was free. He grimaced painfully and turned back to Casavir as he stripped off his burned things. "You probably thought 'Bishop' was my rank in the guild."

"Indeed. It's an unusual name. How did you come by it then?" He handed his sketch to Bishop for his consideration. To give himself something to do to feel useful, Casavir gathered Bishop's castoffs and set them in a pile by the door. "We should bury these things before we leave in the morning."

Bishop nodded at the sketch of himself, but looking about ten years younger. One of the ears was pointed, he supposed, to give him an idea of what he would look like. He fastened the tie on his small clothes and sat back on the furs as Casavir handed the sketch to Sand, who nodded his approval. "Good idea, get rid of the evidence. I suppose it makes no difference if I tell you—Bishop was my grandfather's sick joke. You see, my ma got a job cooking and cleaning at one of the temples in Luskan and came back thick with me after they gave her the sack. My grandfather told me I was the bishop's bastard one day, but he was drunk. Then again, he usually was. Of course my older brother is...was...named after my grandfather, so make of that what you will."

He almost grinned at the look of shocked horror on the paladin's face at that revelation. But it was true, on both counts. He shrugged and was about to put on one of the new shirts but thought better of it, deciding he wanted to wash first if he could find some water nearby. He glanced around again, wondering where Sand hid his bathing tub, for he was sure there was one here somewhere.

Elanee frowned tightly as she listened and arranged a pouch of herbs, a bone knife, and a whistle on the fur in front of her. The ranger wasn't telling her anything she hadn't suspected, and she could tell by his nervous chuckles that it was the truth. She willed herself to focus on what she was doing and gave Sand some of the herbs to steep in mugs of hot water, explaining that some were for before, and some for them to drink after. She handed the whistle to Casavir, showing him how to blow it gently and explaining that she would to use as a beacon to help find their way back to the Prime.

She sat on her knees and turned to the ranger. "Lie down, Bishop. You know, there's a practice among the copper elves in which a newborn is given the name of the first thing the parents see or hear. That would be appropriate for you since this is your rebirth." As if summoned, a red-tailed hawk flew by outside at that moment and gave its piercing cry.

He shook his head. "'Hawke'...no, not me. I'd say 'Wolf,' but that's taken. Though it won't matter if I'm far away from here." Karnwyr looked up and panted in a way that made it look like he was laughing, and Bishop and Elanee were the only ones who knew he was.

Casavir looked thoughtful, amazed that this was the most relaxed he had been in tendays or almost ever in the ranger's presence and took it as a sign of his lord's blessing. "Perhaps 'Wolf' in ancient Illefarn then? I believe that's 'Mac Tir.' Or in Elven perhaps? 'Taur,' isn't it? Now that I think about it, I've met several men named 'Hawke' and more than one "Wolf" in my life, not to mention a 'Hunter' and a "Forester' who I don't believe had ever set foot in a forest."

Bishop nodded. "Yeah, no imagination, though 'Hunter' would fit. But it's as bad as bein' called by what you do, like 'Shepard' back home when 'sheep' would have been more like it. I s'pose they go with what they feel closest to though, so it makes sense. So 'Forest' maybe, or 'River' or a tree...yeah..."

He sat up and rubbed his chin as he thought about it then accepted the infusion Sand passed to him. He eyed them warily again then took a sniff followed by a deep drink and set the mug down, wondering if his sudden talkativeness was part of Sand's enchantment. "I've always liked hawthorne trees. There was a big one that grew outside the house when I was a brat. I could get to it from the attic window." He smiled as he recalled one of his favorite places to escape to when he was a boy. "Nasty thorns too, kept everyone else out." He felt the power of the herbs coursing through his body, willing him to relax. He stretched out and closed his eyes and put an arm around Karnwyr.

Sand returned a bemused smile. "I was about to suggest something prickly. 'Hawthorne, or 'Thorn' then?"

He mouthed the word as if trying on a new pair of trewes, checking for fit. "'Thorn.' Nah, it'll just remind me of what a prick I am. But 'Hunter' is good enough for now. " He relaxed despite himself, despite the paladin hovering nearby and the druid muttering something that sounded Elven, but older and more guttural. "I like birch trees too, the way they sway on the breeze, and the ash with its mottled gray bark and tiny seed cones. I used to collect them when I was a brat and string them on a cord." He chuckled. Later he could change his name to anything and no one would know. One less thing tying him to anyone. He felt himself drifting on a cloud, with Karnwyr beside him.

Then he was drifting, floating, surrounded by mists, but he could still hear the paladin rhythmically blowing the whistle and the druidess chanting. He opened his eyes and was surprised to find her standing over him with the badger beside her. But they weren't in the hut any longer. He wasn't sure where this was. They were outside somewhere, but no 'outside' he had ever seen. The air, what there was of it, was perfectly still. It was oddly humid too. He raised his remaining eyebrow at the druidess as Karnwyr took his hand in his mouth to urge him to his feet.

"We're on the Astral Plane. Come, walk with me but be alert. Tell me anything your senses perceive." Elanee stepped aside and let him lead where he would.

" Alright, but I don't know what I'm looking for. Why did we come here? Do you think she's here?" He was glad she didn't take him back _there_, but his nervousness was making him want to run again. He pointed in the distance. "Is that a skeleton floating over there?"

Karnwyr licked his hand. "Come on, brother, trust our sister." Bishop blinked. Apparently Karnwyr could speak aloud on this plane, or his spirit form could anyway.

Naloch raised up on his hind legs and sniffed the air. "I smell a god of bears nearby, but not the bear woman." They led him on while the badger watched shadowy shapes in the distance in the mist watching them and growled a warning when he thought they were getting too close.

Elanee peered into the distance and stopped mid-stride. "Look over there. Is that..."

"What? Is it her? Why don't both my eyes work here?" There was a shape walking towards them slowly, and as they watched the person picked up her pace. Bishop being Bishop could tell the person who seemed intent on intercepting them was female. But it wasn't her, being tall and slender but not nearly tall enough. He glanced at the druid as she gasped. "Is that the Gith?"

"It is!" Elanee quickened her pace as she recognized her friend. The Githzerai in turn seemed to be running to cover the ground between them.

Elanee drew her into an embrace when they met. "Zhjaeve! It is so good to see you, my friend! We feared the worst, but we could find no trace of you in the ruin, which let us hope you escaped."

The Githzerai drew back to meet her friend's eyes. "Know that the spell that sent me to the Prime to aid the Kalach'cha was set to trigger my return once we had accomplished our task. I am sorry my friend, but I was returned with no warning, and I have had no way since of sending you word. But it is good to see you, though the time you may spend here is short. Know that we are aware of why you are here, and I have received permission to assist you. We also know that the shard was taken from the Kalach'cha and Gith's sword has been reformed." She turned to the ranger and bowed.

A short while later, which seemed like hours as Casavir waited dutifully blowing the whistle every minute or so, Elanee gasped and opened her eyes, and a heartbeat later the ranger did as well.

Sand and Casavir were at their sides instantly, and Sand handed them each a mug. Elanee took a sip of the offered tea then shook her head sadly at Casavir. Bishop looked shaken, and Karnwyr nuzzled him and urged him to drink.

"She _did_ just do it out of the goodness of her heart," he finally admitted hoarsely.

"We found Zhjaeve!" Elanee explained excitedly what the githzerai cleric had told them. "She wanted to come back, but it would have been too difficult."

Casavir looked as deflated as he had looked elated earlier. "That means there is nothing we can do but wait if she didn't give you any instructions."

Bishop drained the mug that Sand gave him, not caring if it put him into a deep sleep again. His voice was haunted as he spoke. "I remember it all..." He shuddered involuntarily, but it felt so good to speak of it finally, and Karnwyr was at his side still offering him comfort. "The pain, the screaming, the horror. She was there on some kind of a quest. She wasn't looking for me at all and was surprised to find me among all the other poor bastards trapped in the Wall. But she said she could hear me and see me clearly across the plane."

"She heard your voice out of the many?" Casavir had a sliver of hope that there was something that the ranger was overlooking. "What did she say to you?"

Bishop frowned. "She seemed surprised, like I said, and of course she had to lecture me about how she had warned me. Nag, nag, nag, even when I'm dead. But the other—the hagspawn—kept her focused. I don't know how I knew he was a hagpawn, but I did. He was handsomer than they're supposed to be. I think he did the same for her that Elanee did for me today. But then I could see he loves her too, or he thinks he does. She's probably the only female who's ever shown him any attention."

He wanted to grin at the dark look on the paladin's face, but he didn't, and he could hear Karnwyr growling a warning in his head too. He shot the wolf an evil look. "Yeah, nag, nag, nag, mutt...But there was something more...I remember I gave her something... I don't think it could have been real, more of a symbol. I found it where her soul was trapped in the Wall, though for the life of me I'm not sure how I made my way to her through all the others."

"She was in the Wall of the Faithless? How is that possible?" Sand didn't try to hide his incredulity, and Casavir was on the edge of his seat asking if he was certain.

"I know what I saw!," Bishop snarled at them both. Elanee put a hand on his shoulder to calm him, and for once he didn't feel like smashing her in the face as he leaned back against Karnwyr. "But she wasn't supposed to be there. She's a placeholder for the one who stole her body, the Betrayer who led the crusade to free them. The others knew it, and then a moment later I knew about the crusade too, like the story was passed to us by the wall itself. I gave her something of his. It was dead and lifeless as the Wall, but I think she could use it to free herself somehow."

"Are you saying her soul has been removed and cast into the Wall and replaced with another's? How could she even live?" Casavir looked stricken as he considered it. "Wouldn't that take the power of a god to perform such a thing?"

Sand nodded grimly. "At the very least. The Betrayer's Crusade. I swear I read something about that once..." he mused.

Bishop's voice grew hoarse again as if another voice spoke through him. "A God created The Wall, and now she is becoming the Wall, and soon she will face the god of death himself and wrest the remainder of his power from him."


	55. Pieces of Safiya

Chapter 55 Pieces of Safiya

Usual disclaimers: Most of the characters in this chapter are owned by a whole lot of people and not me, other than a bear and paladin-lovin' ranger and an occasional NPC. Also, once again I've had to use much more of the plot and dialog from MotB than I like. But that should change after this chapter;-)

The portal led to an antechamber that appeared to be built of the same brown sandstone as the Academy, as if they were connected somehow. Dee seemed only slightly aware of the attackers waiting for them once they crossed through the portal that would lead them to the Founder, nor did she bother to look behind herself to see if her companions had followed, being confident by now they were a cohesive fighting unit and knew their roles. And the sounds of battle and spellfire confirmed this. She charged ahead. Her bears were there on either side of her, their fur matted with blood, until they spotted another enemy and raced to get there first. Dee relentlessly slaughtered any Myrkulite who got in her way like an automaton, relying on muscle memory to guide her swords as her mind was focused on finding the Founder.

Besides priests, some of the Myrkulites were warlocks too. She recognized the magical signatures of their spells, which were similar to Ammon Jerro's but different from the other mages she had known. Those she dealt with first, if Okku and Cillian hadn't already targeted them. After defending Rashemen from Red Wizard invaders many times in his life, the bear god especially enjoyed shattering the bones of mages, then shredding them with his teeth and diamond-hard claws. But not all were spell casters. One man in black chain mail who had more skill than the rest locked blades with Dee, forcing them into a face to face standoff as they both strained to gain the upper hand. "Where do you go, now that I've sent your god to his eternal rest? Will Kelemvor have you, or is it the Wall for you?" she taunted.

He blinked, momentarily distracted by the question, and that careless second that was all she needed to draw up her knee and give him a vicious kick in the groin. She immediately followed through by raising her short sword to join her long sword and neatly scissored his head off then spun and looked around for more Myrkulites to kill. But they were all dead. She looked back at his corpse. "Guess you're gonna find out. May Kelemvor forgive you." She shook the blood off her swords and continued on down the hallway as the others caught up with her.

It wasn't long before their search brought them face to face with Araman, trying in vain to find a way to open a door with neither a key hole or a knob that they all instinctively knew must lead to The Founder herself. Dee snarled, "Step aside, priest of a dead god." But in the back of her mind, Dee questioned why Araman was still opposing her, and so she asked him. "Myrkul is gone. Isn't his geas on you also gone? Your quest is finished. Shouldn't you be living what's left of your life, now that at long last it's yours to live?"

The old man looked at her sternly as if she was a disobedient child as his Myrkulites spread out, trying to flank her. "I am no longer the callow youth I was when I blindly followed my brother in his crusade. I haven't spent lifetimes searching for the Red Woman only because of the geas, biding my time until she made another appearance in one form or other. No, I'm doing it because I've come to understand over time that what my brother did was wrong. I understand that now. Akachi was selfish to free her and put himself above his god, making an idol of her. And so was she, bringing you and so many before you into this in her foolish quest to free him from his just punishment. Myrkul tested my brother, and he failed, as did I when I followed him. But I lived to repent. No, I will stop her because she must be prevented from destroying any more lives."

Dee nodded in agreement. "I can respect that. No one understands that better than you and I do. But I won't let you kill her. She has the key I need to pass through the Betrayer's Gate so I can free my soul, and if I have to kill you to keep you from her, I will."

He frowned at her, and wagged his bony finger in her face. "I will not allow you to renew my brother's misguided, selfish crusade, young woman." He raised an arm, his fingers beginning weaving of a spell. He was both a priest and a mage, which made him doubly dangerous.

"Trust me, I have no intention of doing that, old man." She brought up her long sword to attack before he could complete the spell.

But a black bolt of eldritch energy flew overhead and slammed into him first, knocking him off his feet. She could hear Safiya softly chanting another spell, and she felt herself warm as the energy from it enveloped her, building a protective layer over her skin. Gann's arrows whizzed by as he, Okku and Cillian dealt with the rest. Araman and his priests were dead in mere heartbeats, in less time than it took for Dee's companions to walk across the room to join her.

She shook her head sadly looking down at the old man's body as Safiya handed her a healing potion for injuries she was just now beginning to feel now that the adrenaline was wearing off. "Should have stepped aside, old man. If your cause was truly just, I could have worked with you." She knelt and closed his eyes and prayed softly, "Kelemvor accept you into his presence and give you the peace that has eluded you for so long."

They paused then outside the door and took stock of their injuries, their remaining potions, and their remaining spells. Safiya frowned worriedly. "We cannot face another battle like this one. Perhaps we should find some place to rest, if the Hunger isn't too strong?"

Gann returned from retrieving what arrows he could find that were still usable. "It all depends on how much opposition we still face. However, it appears that Araman's followers are all dead. We could find somewhere to rest, if you feel up to it."

Dee hauled herself to her feet and ambled over to the door, where Kaji had been looking in vain for some kind of mechanism that would open it. She looked back at her companions to assess their condition. Gann had bound the rest of his wounds, Safiya sat against a wall, her tawny face ashen from exhaustion, and Cillian was licking at one of many wounds. Despite the healing potion Safiya had given her, she still hurt everywhere. Only Ammon Jerro, his tattoos glowing with an unholy fire, and Okku appeared to be relatively unscathed by the fight. But Dee had to agree that they badly needed rest. "We've come this far, but mayhap you're right."

However, as soon as she spoke, the door creaked ominously and opened inwards, as if they were being invited in. They all instinctively jumped right or left out of the line of fire. After a breathless few minutes during which no one and nothing came out, she motioned the others over. "Looks like she's waiting for us too."

"I would say that rest is no longer an option." Gann said grimly and nocked two arrows.

"Must you always state the obvious?" Okku grumbled, being tired and more cross than usual.

"Indeed. He's almost as annoying as that gnome back at Crossroad Keep," Ammon Jerro grumbled in agreement with Okku.

Safiya sent Kaji to scout ahead, and the creature flew back a few minutes later to report that apart from some inactive golems, only Safiya's mother was inside. Safiya was incredulous. "My _mother_ is here? Are you sure, Kaji? How can that be?"

"You haven't figured that out?" Dee walked in without another word, provoking a curse and grumbling about her lack of caution from Ammon Jerro. Candles flared to life as she stepped over the threshold, her swords ready. However, there _was_ no one in the room but a dessicated bald woman in red silk robes.

"You're certainly not my mother. Who are you!" Safiya demanded, though her gut told her the answer.

Dee drew closer to the crone. "The Founder, also known as the Red Woman, I presume?" She quickly glanced around the room and sized up the opposition. The only other things in the room besides comfortable chairs, a writing table, shelves and shelves of books and scrolls, and papers scattered about other tables were several stone golems lined up around the perimeter. They were inactive, but everyone was on guard, knowing they could be awakened with a word.

The crone clasped her hands under her chin and smiled sweetly at her. "Dearest! Here you are, at last! Come in! You must be tired and hungry. I've prepared some refreshments." She beamed at her and swept her hand at a table laden with clay goblets and a bowl of fresh fruits along with a basket of flatbread. The old woman toddled over and tried to touch Dee's cheek, chuckling lightly. "Ah, my dearest. It's so good to see you again. What a pair we are this time. I must be hideous to your eyes, and you wear the skin of a lady."

Dee recoiled from her touch as if it was venomous and brushed her hand away brusquely. She growled, "Are you insane? Give me one reason not to kill you right now! And for your information, my name is Dierdre Farlong, I'm a person, not a 'skin', and I'm _not_ your Akachi!"

Her face fell, revealing a millennium of pain and sorrow. "Oh, I know he's gone, and that only a pale husk of my love remains. I am not blind to this. But hear me out. What I did was done for Love, a power greater than any other, even the gods themselves!"

Safiya, inched closer as she stared at the woman in wonder. "Safi?" Dee intercepted her with a hand on her shoulder, fearing she was in a trance, then turned her attention back to the old woman. "Love? What the hells are you talking about?"

"I have so many questions for her!" Safiya turned to face her and put a hand on Dee's chest right below her left shoulder and gazed at her with an entreating look.

Dee sheathed her swords then absently caressed her cheek with her thumb and gave her a brief embrace, their bickering earlier now forgotten. "Alright, Safi, I will hear her out for your sake."

A single tear rolled down the crone's cheek, having recognized gestures that she and Akachi had traded many times before. But as she had hoped, Akachi's influence over his host was very strong here. "I will answer all of your questions, dearest."

"Very well. Start talking, woman. And start by explaining Safiya's part in this to her satisfaction. I want all her questions answered." So Dee sat at the table putting her feet up as if she owned the place and poured herself a goblet of of dark, tangy pomegranate juice and handed one to Safiya.

Gann raised an eyebrow, noting how many of Dee's movements and expressions were subtly different here. He whispered his concerns to Okku then kept his eyes fixed on her though he wasn't certain what he could do on this plane to break Akachi's influence.

The Founder took another chair next to Dee, and Safiya sat next to her. Okku and Cillian chuffed at one another in bearspeak and spread out and covered the doors while Ammon stayed discretely back in spell range. They listened as Safiya asked her questions and The Founder explained to Safiya what she was, which was the reason for the voices that had plagued her since she was a child.

It was as Dee had suspected ever since she saw the main focus of research at the Academy. Myrkul's geas had also kept the Founder alive, but she had to hide from his loyal hounds like Araman in this secret sanctuary, which left her little time or energy to track the latest victim of the curse. Since she had been one of the pioneers in the study of splitting off facets of the soul before her death, she had created simulacrums of herself over the past millennium as they were needed. She split off then fused a part of her own soul to each. To Dee, this explained Safiya's fascination with creating homoculi. By doing this the Red Woman could remain in hiding while the fragments of herself, which she told them she thought of as her daughters, carried out most of the actual work of finding the latest spirit eater and trying to find a way to end the curse. As they died, or were killed by Araman or other Myrkulites, the fragment of her soul returned to her until she needed to split them off again.

Gann interrupted, sounding an outraged warning. "What you do not only dangerous but foolish, mage. The fragments may have returned, but the soul is fragmented and must be healed or the person will never be whole. You are like...like...a broken mirror, nearly impossible to make whole again."

She scowled at Gann's interruption. "I have had many years to perfect my study, spirit shaman. Scold me when you have lived half as long as I have."

"What part of you am I then?" Safiya leaned forward in her chair, looking fascinated by the concept but appalled at the same time.

The Founder smiled affectionately and leaned over and kissed her forehead. "You are what is best of me, Safiya, as if I was saving the best for the last. You have some of my intellect, but also most of my passion. Anything that was good, or kind, or loving in me was placed in you. And when your friend frees Akachi from the curse, I can die, and what remains of me will find you, and you will be whole."

Gann muttered, "No she won't, not without quite a bit of soul healing."

The Founder ignored him as she stood stiffly and took a long, narrow box off a table in the back of the room then brought it before Dee. "And for you, I give you the Sword of Gith, which I have restored. Use it to open the portal in the death god's vault then go to the Gray City and free your soul from the Wall, and then free Akachi from this curse." She opened the box with a flourish.

Dee gasped despite her resentment and anger as she beheld the familiar shape, but missing the glowing lines of the fractures. It _was_ whole. She couldn't stop herself from drawing it from the box then turning the gleaming blade in the light, where she looked at it in awe. "'Tis perfect." She ran her hand along the blade then stood and gave it a tentative swing. It was a fine blade to be sure, perfectly balanced, and she could feel the hum of the enchantments, though it felt different now. Ammon Jerro was overcome by curiosity and gave up his vigil by the door to examine the sword he too had once borne. But something was missing that Dee couldn't put her finger on. She lay it back down with a frown and turned back to the Founder.

"Now if you're finished, 'tis my turn. I thank you for returning the sword you _took_ from me, though I could have done without this hideous scar on my chest from your...homoculi's careless surgery. Butchery is more like it. If not for my ring, I doubt I would have survived."

The Founder was only slightly defensive, and seemed even dismissive to Dee, as if what she had put her through had been insignificant. "Yes, but we knew you wore a ring of regeneration_._ Lienna and Nefris had many healing potions and would not have allowed you to die, but time was of the essence, and we couldn't trust the task of retrieving the shard to anyone else more...skilled in surgery on a living being. That was the reason for their haste and their butchery, as you call it."

"You couldn't have just asked me to help you?" But in her heart she knew the answer to that. Who in her right mind would agree to become the host for the curse and give up her life and her love...especially that. "And what if I can't end the curse? You've hurt not only me, but my love too. Or does _Love_ only matter when it's about you?" Dee nodded at the warlock. "And what about Ammon? His only crime was trying to rescue me. What you did to him was despicable." The warlock, standing with his arms crossed, grunted in agreement.

The crone turned to acknowledge him. "We did what we had to do when you followed her through that portal. I recognized you from many years ago when you studied at the Academy, and I knew how skilled you must have become in the years since then. You were researching the Sword of Gith, and that made me remember you out of the countless students and scholars that have studied with us over the years. You might have been selected instead of her if you still bore the sword. We are not monsters, despite what you think. I couldn't take a chance that you would let me explain before you attacked to free your companion. And furthermore, you were never meant to languish in the soulless ward. We fully intended to restore you as soon as she arrived in Mulsantir so you could help her, but Araman moved against us first. Nefris expected his attack, but somehow he found out about Lienna and went to Mulsantir to kill her too."

Ammon muttered as he glowered at her, "I was not expecting an apology, not that you offered one. I might have done the same thing myself if I found myself in a similar circumstance, but I wouldn't have. But enough about me. I believe from her expression Captain Farlong has more to say to you."

"Yeah, I'm not finished with you by far. You say you did this all for _love_? I'm happy for you. But what about me and my husband? We weren't even married a tenday when you took me from him! Did you spare us a heartbeat's thought as you stole me away? And now he has no idea where I am or if he'll ever see me again. And he still might not, or even have a corpse to bury. You took that from us!" Her voice grew more strident, and a sob escaped her before she continued. "What about our child that this curse stole from me? Would it have made any difference in your plans if you had known? I doubt it! Did you think for one moment about the effect of your actions on me and my love, or did you only think about yourself!" She wiped away a cascade of angry tears, which was the only thing that kept her from drawing her swords and sending her immediately to face Kelemvor.

Safiya quickly moved to stand between them, torn between helping this foreign woman with whom she had formed a deep bond in a short few months, and The Founder, who she knew was part of herself. She put her hand on Dee's arm. "Please, Dee."

However, the crone was unmoved, and even defiant. "Lienna had found the last spirit eater, but he was too far gone by then. She helped him cast the glyphs in the barrow that would contain the curse to buy us time until we found the sword, and then found someone who could wield it. And we found you. Did we abduct you from that ruin and save you from death? Yes. Did I order you to be placed in that barrow as a host for Akachi? Yes, I did. We waited until after you had defeated the Shadow King. I am not a fool. Have I done evil for Akachi's sake? Guilty. Would I do it again if you fail? Yes, without hesitation. Strike me down if you feel you must satisfy your need for vengeance. But whether you do or not, take the sword and free the both of you. May you succeed where those who came before you have failed." She stood with her arms out, and closed her eyes, waiting for the death blow.

Dee shrugged Safiya's hand off her shoulder and snatched the sword from the table. Cillian growled and immediately ran to join her. Safiya screamed "No!" as Dee glared at The Founder and with a lightning-fast flick of her wrist swung the sword less than an inch from her throat. She held the blade there for several heartbeats then sighed and lowered the sword. "I will not let you make me like you! You deserve to die...but I don't kill old women. Besides, it wouldn't be right, because you were as much a tool as I am."

Safiya was crying softly as put her arms around Dee, whispering "Thank you." She nearly collapsed, leaning heavily on Dee.

Dee put an arm around her and helped her into her chair and sat beside her as their companions relaxed, though they still kept wary eyes on the golems and the Founder. Dee absently kissed the back of Safiya's hand, another gesture that was painfully familiar to The Founder, then lay the sword back down and put her other hand out to stroke Cillian's head, which always grounded her. "Don't thank me, Safi. You were there. You know what Myrkul did to Akachi to ensure his survival."

The Founder opened her eyes, surprised that she was still alive, and she also crumpled weakly into her chair like a puppet with its strings cut. But she soon sat up, composed herself and calmly took a drink before she spoke. "I'm a tool? What do you mean?"

Dee turned away from comforting Safiya, who was still crying softy, and paused for a drink too before she explained. "Do you remember the day you died?"

The crone leaned back in her chair and thought about it. "It was so very long ago...I remember I was in my laboratory attempting a difficult enchantment. It was difficult, but nothing I hadn't done before. Perhaps that made me complacent...I took my mind off what I was doing for only a moment, but with disastrous results...I remember a flash and searing pain. The next thing I remembered was Akachi using his power to restore me to life. But Myrkul was angry with him and decreed that he would take my place in the _Wall of the Faithless_, and then he cast him out to wander the land once it had consumed him."

Dee shook her head. "Trust me, you didn't escape the Wall without Myrkul's full knowledge and consent. He set the whole thing up. But if it hadn't been Akachi, it would have been his next high priest. Mayhap he saw the love for you in his priest's heart and was jealous, but in that case he could have just removed his favor from him or even struck him down. Instead he had him promoted to high priest. Hells, he even gave him everything he would need for his rebellion, including the sword, which conveniently was also the key that would allow his favored priest to open the portal to the Gray City. Your momentary distraction that ended your life? I see Myrkul's hand in that too. But as I said, if he had underestimated Akachi's loyalty to him and your lover had left you to oblivion in the wall, Myrkul would have just sought another tool amongst his priests. He needed someone to be cast alive into the Wall to be possessed and consumed, but bearing within the curse a fraction of Myrkul's life force that could conveniently be passed along to the next victim once it consumed the last. It would be there in the event of his death. Akachi was his contingency plan."

The Founder considered this and after a few minutes' thought answered. "Fascinating. You're right, I recall it was as if a shadow passed over my mind at the crucial moment during the casting. Unfortunately, he knew my beloved's heart far too well."

Dee stroked Cillian's rough fur absently. "Yes, it appears he did, and his plot to ensure his existence has led to misery for me and all those who were cursed before me. But I don't think he ever dreamed that his latest victim would figure out how to use his own power against him. I hardly believe it myself."

Dee stood and switched the Sword of Gith with her long sword, which she placed in the box and stowed away in her magic bag. "It's time to go. Even though I put Myrkul to rest, his curse still exists in me. And so it ends with me. Mayhap Myrkul could even come back given time, though only a shadow of his power remains. I won't take a chance on that happening. If I can't beat this curse, I'm resolved to beg Kelemvor to allow me to stay in the Gray City and contain it there, even if it means never seeing my love again. Either way, your part in this is finished, old woman." She turned on her heel and strode out the door without another word to her or her companions then through the structure to the portal to Mulsantir.

There was no question that they had to rest before they could even think of going on, though Dee was anxious to get it over with. They rested where they could on the shadow side of the theater, not wanting to alert anyone in Mulsantir that they had returned. Everyone had injuries that hadn't been healed, and more importantly, the spell casters needed to replenish their spells. The Hunger had increased, but it was still manageable. The Founder gave Safiya a collection of wands, rods, and scrolls as well as a pack of assorted potions before she hustled off to catch up to Dee. But it wouldn't be enough to allow them to take on whatever lay beyond the gate. In the morning when they awoke (not that there was any indication it was morning in the gloom), they traveled through the shadow city to Myrkul's temple.

There had never really been much of a question in Dee's mind of whether she would join Kaelyn in her crusade. Nonetheless, The Dove was waiting for them in front of the portal in the death god's vault. She entreated her to reconsider, her soft black eyes and gentle voice tugging at Dee's heart. "I don't look forward to fighting you, Dee. Are you sure you won't join us? Your generals are waiting at the gate, and you know in your heart our cause is just."

"_Akachi's_ generals," Dee corrected her. She sighed. "Are you sure I can't talk you out of this rebellion? Yeah, I hate the Wall too, but this is the wrong way to go about it. Wouldn't it be better for you priests to win over the people so they don't end up there? I have a hard time believing Illmater approves of your plan. And I don't look forward to meeting you on the battlefield either." It occurred to Dee that she could refuse to let Kaelyn enter the portal, but she knew she couldn't stop her from following once the way was open. If they were to become enemies, she would rather have her out front where she could see her than coming up behind her.

Dee turned to her other companions and gave them the same speech she had given her companions at the Keep two months earlier. "What about the rest of you? Are you sure you want to do this? I wouldn't think any less of any of you if you left now."

Okku chuffed at her. "I will see you and my little brother through this last battle and end this evil forever, little one."

Gann scoffed. "What, shall I leave the theater before the final act? Never! I admit escaping certain doom is appealing, but I am very interested to see how this dream of yours ends."

Ammon snorted. "We're wasting time. Let's go."

Safiya smiled sweetly as she took Dee's hand and gazed into her eyes, her own eyes shining. "I will stay by your side. I've come to care for you deeply in the past few months, and I will see this through whatever happens."

Dee recognized that look. She had a moment of clarity, having seen it in Cas's eyes often enough, and it informed her that The Founder's feelings were influencing Safiya's mind as much as Akachi's had tried to overwhelm hers. At least she hoped that was what it was. "Safi, think about it for a moment. Is it for me you're doing this, or are you The Founder responding to Akachi inside me?"

Safiya blinked, taken aback, and dropped her hand. "I...I...I think...I don't...What a fool I've been! Of course that's what this is." But she smiled tightly after a minute, and responded with determination. "Perhaps it's true, but I feel I must see this out for The Founder if nothing else. And besides, I _have_ grown fond of you, my friend, and that's Safiya talking to Dee."

Dee gave her a hug. "Thank you. Now let's see if this key really works." She offered a brief prayer to Meilikki, Tyr, and finally to Kelemvor then gingerly guided the sword into the narrow slot in the door. Immediately they were rewarded with a flash of blinding light followed by the telltale shimmer of a portal. She and Cillian stepped through, followed closely by the others.

Kaelyn was right. Akachi's general Zoab, another celestial, approached Kaelyn as soon as they neared the Supplicant's Gate. She introduced him, and after he explained the plans of the other two generals, Dee shook her head, being reminded of Rhetta's frequent admonition that two wrongs don't make a right. Of the three it seemed only Zoab had joined the Crusade to stop the injustice of the Wall, and not for personal gain like the other generals. But in Dee's mind even if they all had only the best of intentions, their crusade was still rebellion against all the gods, not just Kelemvor.

Dee took Kaelyn aside and argued with her one last time about the wrongness of this crusade and the foolishness of trusting Akachi's generals, particularly the lich and the dragon, who she thought were as likely to betray them once it was all finished as not. But Kaelyn would not be moved, not even when Dee pointed out the evil balors and their hezrou minions gathering outside the gate, who would serve as their shock troops. She was reminded too of one of Daeghun's admonitions during her childhood, which she repeated to her then, "The ends never justify the means if you must resort to doing wrong to achieve them." So they grimly parted company and joined the opposing forces.

Besides a number of paladins, divine champions, priests, and knights of Kelemvor, Araman joined them to defend the city. He had been accepted by Kelemvor into His service as soon as he walked through the _Supplicant's Gate,_ and he took his place as a defender. In the ensuing battle at _Eternity's End_, Dee was grateful it was he who dealt the death blow to the Dove, while Okku and Cillian killed her siblings.

They fought through the city until they reached the _Temple of Kelemvor_ at _Eternity's End _where they defeated the last of the generals, the arch lich Rammaq. With this latest Crusade put down, the Scrivner in the temple was happy to help Dee examine the _Codex of the Doomed_ to find the exact place where her soul was imprisoned in the Wall. After what seemed like an hour, he came out of the stacks of scrolls with a map showing her where she needed to go. He warned her that the Wall had been designed to hold its prisoners and she would have to fight to get it free, however.

She muttered to Cillian, "The least Kelemvor could have done was to give us a hand," as they stormed out the door and back into the city. Where was he? They had successfully defended _his_ city. But she willed herself not to let rancor distract her now that she was so close. The vast Wall seemed to go on for miles, but knowing where to look, she wasted no time in finding the place and attacking the Wall using Gith's sword to free her soul. But as she had been warned, the Wall refused to give it up without a fight, attacking them with bolts of energy that left them all bloodied and bruised.

Then finally there it was, lying prone on the ground, a silvery shadow of herself. It seemed like such a small thing, and she feared the fight to free it had damaged it. She murmured, "That's all there is to it? What does that say about me?" as she gently picked it up and held it to herself.

Gann replied, "They are small, but this is the real you, not this lanky shell that holds you. Now hold still." He put his hands on her head and chanted a guttural phrase that would help with reintegrating it within herself.

Before he even finished, she felt an electric shock that started in her head then made her fingers and toes tingle as it slid inside her, but she had no time to savor the feeling of being whole again. There was another blinding flash, and when her vision cleared, she found herself back at Crossroad Keep, or rather some sort of dream version of the Keep. Akachi would not be displaced so easily, it seemed, and the hardest battle by far would take place in her own mind. And she wasn't surprised to see that Gann was there with her and Cillian, brought into the dream.

Gann pointed out the first of Akachi's fragments, fighting Neeshka. "Quickly, we must help your alluring friend."

"Why is he doing this?"

She wasn't really expecting an answer as they sped to Neeshka, but Gann answered anyway. "It's hard to believe, but to him, you're the invader in his body. He's trying to force these foreign memories out."

They rescued Neeshka and were joined by Sand and Casavir as Akachi's fragments attacked anyone she had ever known. She wondered for a second if it was possible to protect them by not thinking about them, though trying made her think about them all the more. And once it seemed they had defeated him there, he retaliated by digging further into her memories of West Harbor, trying to destroy those as well.

"Where are we now?" Gann asked, as he fired an arrow at one of Akachi's fragments who had just killed Lewy Jons again.

"This is West Harbor, where I grew up." They charged that fragment, then found another fighting Georg and Brother Merring, which they quickly put down.

They strode through the village, looking for others, Cillian taking point and Gann at Dee's side. "I'm almost feel sorry for him. I can sense his confusion. I might even have shared my body with his soul if it was possible as long as I'm in charge, but there's no way of getting through to him."

Gann replied, "There's not much left of him left to communicate with. That old woman was right. He's just a husk, a shadow of his former self. He's working on a very basic, almost animal level trying to survive. That makes him all the more dangerous."

Akachi seemed to be defeated, as they walked around the village past the sleepy river, Gann pointed out another bright portal in the barley field. "He's gone through there." He cast healing spells on the three of them before they entered the portal, which led to a barren plane.

"Are we back on the Fugue Plane?" She didn't know, nor did she have time to care as he attacked, and she just caught Gann's shouted reply that this place was the very core of her soul. It was as if the earlier fights had only been practice; he fought like a demon this time, determined to thrust her out.

This time, however, she had as a weapon his own memories and those of his love and his brother, which The Red Woman had crafted into a dream mask, to force him to remember who he was and what had happened to him. It seemed that every time they defeated one of his manifestations, he regrouped and came back stronger. Cillian was struck down, and then Gann sunk to the ground after casting a final lightning spell, and Dee's legs were turning to jelly. The Sword of Gith, while whole, didn't follow her will as it had when it was broken, and she had had no time to figure out the new enchantments. Though her mouth was parched, she uttered a prayer to all the gods for the strength to raise her sword one more time, then swung it in a wide arc. Her sword sliced open the belly of the last image of Akachi, and he crumpled to the ground in a smoldering heap then dissolved into nothingness. She crumpled after he did, next to the still form of Cillian.

After another blinding flash, they were back beside the _Wall of the Faithless_. Dee looked around in disbelief then looked to make sure Cillian and Gann were with her. They were both struggling to their feet. "Have we done it?" A heartbeat later she became aware of the silence inside herself, for the first time in months as the Hunger was gone. It was eerie; she had never known this quiet before.

But there was no time to think more on that. She was swept up in the arms of her jubilant companions. It was truly over! Somehow Okku managed to rise up on his hind legs and give her a bearhug too. He chuffed, "You and the spirit shaman did it. I felt the instant the Hunger fled back into the Wall."

Even Ammon Jerro gave her an uncharacteristic hug once Okku moved aside then broke away, muttering, "Remember. Keep a low profile..." before he turned and walked purposefully off towards another portal in the distance. He glanced at her over his shoulder one last time, then after a grin that was more like a grimace, leaped through.

Dee hugged Safiya. "You're free too. Does she know?"

Safiya closed her eyes and concentrated for a few minutes then beamed at Dee. "Oh yes, she shares our joy, though it is temped with sorrow because Akachi is truly gone now. I don't think she will cling to life much longer, though I do sense she intends to spend the rest of her time repairing the damage done at the Academy. It's a fitting end to her life."

Okku nudged her towards a portal. "Come, little one. It's time we leave this place. You must go home, and I wish to return to my rest."

She murmured the word, "Home." But then she saw a masked figure approaching them from _Eternity's End_, filled with majesty that flowed from him in waves, making the air around Him shimmer. He wore a mask because a mortal could not look on His divine presence and live. She whispered, "Kelemvor."


	56. Lost and Found

Chapter 56 Lost and Found

Usual disclaimers: Most of the characters in this chapter are owned by a lot of other people and not by me, except an occasional NPC. As usual, concrit and suggestions appreciated.

He was awakened by a strangled scream, and after a moment, he realized it had come from himself. He sat up in a cold sweat and put his head in his hands, shuddering both from the sweat, the autumn coolness, and from the fleeting memory of a dream, though nightmare would be more accurate. Karnwyr sat up whimpering and licked Bishop's hands then his face, and he threw his arms around him and buried his face in the wolf's fur until his shivering stopped.

He glanced out of his good eye at the elves lying deep in their reverie, glad he hadn't roused them, though the badger raised his head and hissed before snuggling back next to Elanee. The thought flashed in his mind that the druid might have done something to him during her ceremony and that he would be cursed to remember _that place_ in his dreams for the rest of his life, like he hadn't had enough nightmares of Red Fallows Watch. He shuddered again and swore. But he discounted that. Vindictiveness described _him_, not her. Her god, on the other hand...Karnwyr whimpered again, and he ruffled the wolf's fur, already growing thick for the winter. "Gonna be a cold one," he mumbled.

He lay back down and tried to return to sleep as random thoughts flowed through his mind. "_Sure hope the pansy's spell fixes my eye too...Don't know about the pointy ears though. Fuck me, it's cold. I can feel the cold in my wrists and my shoulder...maybe younger isn't such a bad idea...ten years off and fix all the damage I've done to my body in thirty years...or is it thirty-one? Does it count if my birthday came and went while I was dead? Not that anyone ever gave a damn about my birthday._"

He shuddered again at the thought and coughed, and Karnwyr stretched out beside him to share his warmth. He felt chilled to the bone despite the cozy fire still burning in the fireplace. He tried to think of anything but _there_. He cursed again as he turned over and pulled up his blanket then put his arm around the wolf. "_Not ten years though._ _I never could grow a decent beard until I got to about twenty five...anyway, could I even grow one with pointy ears? The worst part is having to bow and scrape to one of the gods...thing is before I thought religion was all so much bullshit to fleece the sheep, and know I know better...yeah, about the gods anyway, not so sure about religion. And not just a half-assed going through the motions at the shrine either. I know now that won't work, especially with the darker gods. Plenty of their followers there wailing about why they didn't come for them...What if whoever I choose to bow and scrape to leaves me to Kelemvor anyway?_"

He glanced over at Elanee, lying still on a fur with Naloth beside her. _"Serve them right if I choose Malar. Now that's a religion for hunters. I hear they even have wild hunts where the prey is criminals...like me. But if the gods need us so bad, you would think they'd choose us. It's like they don't give a damn._"

Karnwyr sat up, looked at him and snorted, then grumbled, "_Rest, pack brother_."

He whispered, "Sorry, boy, forgot you could hear me," and sighed as the wolf wiggled in closer and with his arm around the wolf, tried to surrender to sleep once again. "_Wolf...maybe that's it, give up being human at all. I could still talk to the druid. Wonder if there's a wolf god. But no, I like being a man. Wolves never get laid unless they lead the pack." _Karnwyr growled at him. He tried to shut off his mind and after a few minutes drifted off to sleep, the wolf's presence calming him and his heat chasing off the chill.

Once they awakened and Sand's conjured buildings dissolved into the mist, Bishop agreed with Elanee's suggestion that his new form should be half elven. Even Sand had been persuaded by then it was for the best so the ranger wouldn't be recognized and all Sand's work undone. Bishop asked to be about five years younger then reminded Sand that he wanted his best nine inches restored too, a request that caused Sand to roll his eyes and mutter.

Casavir looked up from brushing Thunder's glossy black mane. "You will still be recognized if you return to your former ways, Bishop." But after a moment during which the ranger didn't respond with a curse or even a gesture, but instead looked at the ground, Casavir felt ashamed. "Forgive me. I sound as if that's what I expect, and I'm not giving you a chance. I'm not making this any easier for you."

Bishop didn't reply other than to shrug. There was no point anymore in baiting the paladin. The others probably hadn't noticed since they saw him every day, but he could see the pain he had endured in the past two months written on his face, as if the two months without her had been years. It was frightening, the thought of having someone get under his skin that bad. It had come dangerously close to happening to him twice, with _her_, and before that with Malin. After a few minutes he looked up at him and made a small attempt to bridge the gap between them.

"For what it's worth, I don't remember anything but what I already told you, besides the others in the Wall goin' on about the _Betrayer's Crusade._ They were...excited...hopeful...they thought Dee was there to lead it and set them free, or whoever was inside of her was, because she was in the Wall too. I remembered that last night. The only other thing I remember is that she reeked of bear. Not that you would probably notice, but I notice those things...it wasn't just her bear though. More like the king of bears, or a bear god, if there is such a thing. She's got herself a powerful enemy, but I got the feelin' she's got powerful allies besides the hagspawn."

Casavir nodded, looking only slightly less miserable than he did whenever someone mentioned her name. "Brother Ivarr and I are also of the opinion that whoever took her was very powerful, possibly a lich or even a demi-god. Someone the other gods cannot interfere with, at least overtly. But thanks just the same. It is good to know she's not alone. Perhaps these clues will aid us yet."

Sand was carefully laying out the spell components he would need. He frowned and asked in what was intended as an aside to Elanee, who was making a porridge for breakfast, but loud enough for Bishop and Casavir to overhear, "It occurs to me that Karnwyr might draw attention to him as well. He was his constant companion, and while one wolf looks like another to most, I fear there are enough people at the Keep and in Neverwinter who would recognize him."

Elanee listened as she stirred the pot and added some dried berries. "Yes, that is a problem. You could always change the color of his fur too. I would still recognize him, as would another druid or ranger, but I doubt anyone else would." She turned to Bishop. "And Karnwyr's name is common enough among elven and half-elven rangers. It means "Lone Wolf" in my Copper Elf dialect, and the word is similar in other elven dialects...'_karunwyr, 'karnawere_'. You see how similar they are?"

Bishop did not know that, and he looked at the wolf in surprise. He had just known that 'Karnwyr' was his companion's name when they met five years ago, and then he hadn't been sure if that had been communicated to him by the wolf. Suddenly he was sure of it. "What do you say, boy? Do you want to be a black wolf, or red, like the leaves? Even white. That would make it easier to hunt in winter."

Karnwyr didn't have an opinion on the matter. "_Color of fur doesn't matter. Make my fur the color of yours, pack brother. That way I can hide with you." _

Wolf had been listening and shyly interjected himself into the conversation. "I think it's enough to say that we just met you out here and Karnwyr bonded with you. But I guess they're right and it might make people ask too many questions about the new ranger."

So in the time it took for Casavir, Wolf and Neeshka to feed and groom the rest of the horses and saddle them for the journey back, Sand had finished his casting. He caressed Karnwyr's fur lightly as he used his paint cantrip to make a few artistic changes, pleased at the deep russet color of the bulk of his fur, leaving the underside a creamy white and adding some golden highlights above his eyes and on the tips of his ears. "Pity I don't have another _Permanency _spell memorized. I can make Karnwyr's new color permanent later, however."

Bishop merely grunted as his mind was occupied as he stared at his image in a mirror that Sand had produced from one of his many pouches. He closed his right eye experimentally to judge the vision in his left eye. It was perfect. Better, in fact. The color of his hair and eyes were identical to what they had been. It was still his face staring back at him for the most part, right down to the stubble, though that was finer while his face was thinner and more angular. He _was_ younger too. He turned his head to look at his right ear, lying flat against his head, but now with a gentle point at the top. He stroked it lightly, and shuddered as he felt a tingle throughout his body. He had always wondered if those stories about elves' ears were true, and now he knew they were. He resisted the urge to go behind some nearby rocks and relieve himself so he could check that out too, but he trusted Sand not to leave him shortchanged.

Wolf brought him over a bowl of porridge. "Here you go, Bishop." The boy blanched and covered his mouth, nearly dropping the bowl.

Sand arched a delicate eyebrow and set down his own bowl. "Oh dear, that will be a problem. Don't make me cast another geas on you all so that doesn't happen again."

Bishop shrugged, surprised at how calm he was, and amazed at how delicious this simple porridge tasted. But everything was like that so far. Even water tasted sweeter than the finest wine. It was all so alive. He reluctantly swallowed and replied. "Hmm. I could say I'm closely related to Bishop...so it's my name too. No one knows it wasn't my last name. I never talked about that with anyone, not even Dee. So I could be his bastard half-brother. Hunter Bishop. It's true, in a sense, so it shouldn't be too much of a strain on Casavir, and it's also true that there's no telling how many bastard half-brothers I have besides the two I know about."

Casavir paled thinking how enmeshed he was becoming in this plot. "It is a gray area, Bish..._Hunter_. I fear at times I've gone too far in this passive deceit for the sake of my wife. Perhaps Tyr is testing me." He immediately sent a silent prayer to Tyr for guidance. _Restore my heart and my spirit, oh lord. Show me your path so that I might not stray from your righteousness._

Neeshka frowned and set her bowl down and put an arm around him, finding the itching merely a nuisance. "Remember what you said about justice, Cas. How you felt that something had offended Tyr's sense of justice? Maybe this is your part in making whatever it is right. Now stop brooding and eat. You've lost weight, and that's not going to make her happy when we get her back. And we _will_ get her back."

He smiled at the tiefling and kissed her cheek. "Thank you, Neeshka, you've been a good friend to both of us."

When it came time to leave, the others thanked Bishop, expecting he would go his own way if that was what he wanted. Yet even though they all made ready to leave, they found something that needed to be done in removing traces of the camp, or double then triple-checking that the horses' saddles were fastened correctly. And Bishop was still with them too, as if he too was stalling. Karnwyr made no effort to go either. No one was more surprised than he when Bishop finally drawled, "Hmph. May as well stick around in case I remember something else." It was as good an excuse as any.

Karnwyr was delighted however, and ran around him barking then jumped up and licked his face. "_Good, you stay with pack, brother. Stronger, safer that way. It good pack." _ Apparently he wasn't much of a lone wolf after all despite his name.

He half-heartedly tried to fend off the wolf's affection. "If you say so, brother."

Elanee felt a growing sense of responsibility for Bishop for giving him life, and determined that she would do what she could to see him healed, which she knew would be no minor task. "You're welcome to come with me, _Hunter_. I could call you _Celaes_. That's "hunter" in Elven. I want to ride through the hills to observe the condition of the land after the fire." They were both saddened by the aftermath of the forest fire, the devastation of which had been worse since it had been magically caused and burned hotter, and worse still because of the blight left in the King of Shadows' wake. "You can take my horse. I won't need her for a while."

He tried to be non-committal, but she could tell he was relieved to have something to do. "Sure, why not. Hope I haven't forgotten how to ride."

So the companions parted company, the rest heading back to Crossroad Keep with Wolf and Neeshka taking turns scouting ahead. Sand sprung nimbly onto his horse's back then turned to Casavir. "I keep thinking that phrase 'Betrayer's Crusade' sounds very familiar, but I have no idea where I heard it, or more likely, read it. I can't believe I'm saying this, but I can't wait to get back to see if Aldanon is back at the Keep." He shuddered at the thought. "However, I might have more success researching it with the Loremaster at the library at Oghma's temple."

Casavir nodded. "I will accompany you then to Neverwinter once we ask if there's been any word at Crossroad Keep. Perhaps Judge Oleff knows what it means, and we might ask at the Academy as well." His heart felt lighter now that he had a direction and a purpose. He felt a peace that he knew came from Tyr, answering his earlier prayer. If not for the grace of Tyr, he might have run mad from grief and worry. He offered another brief prayer of heartfelt thanks then gently nudged Thunder to catch up with Sand.

Bishop kept an eye on Elanee as she flew ahead. Naloch rode along in a saddlebag Elanee had made so he could look out as they rode and ignored Bishop for the most part. Karnwyr loped alongside the horse, running off from time to time to explore an interesting scent or dig for something. Bishop chuckled watching him. What was it about canines and digging. He inhaled deeply the crisp autumn air, which tasted fresh and sweet to him despite the ash the horse kicked up as they picked their way down a hill through the stumps of trees.

They traveled for nearly an hour. She seemed to be heading towards a willow tree in the distance, which stood out in stark contrast to the blackened landscape of stumps surrounding it. A flock of ravens had already claimed it as their home, some of the only wildlife he had seen all morning. They flew out and circled Elanee's hawk form, their raucous cawing shattering the silence. She landed next to the tree and resumed her elven form, and the ravens settled back in the tree, though one appeared to be talking with the druid.

Bishop dismounted and ambled over to Elanee, who was examining the tree. He put his hand on the rough bark. He whistled, the sound strange to his ears. "Odd that it hasn't lost its leaves yet. But this is no ordinary tree. I can feel some kind of magic. Is there a dryad here?" He frowned, thinking that his voice sounded different too, but after a heartbeat, he decided that was a small price to pay for a fresh start. He looked puzzled as he turned back to Elanee. "Weird. It feels...angry."

Elanee smiled at him as she walked around the tree. "Very perceptive. She will get over it if she releases her hate and anger...But besides the ravens, notice the other life that has returned. Thankfully there are no destructive insects, and there's a healthy growth of fungi among its roots." She put her hand on the tree and murmured, "Isn't this a more peaceful life than the one you knew before? You can grow tall and strong and be queen of this new grove if you give up your bitterness."

Bishop arched an eyebrow. He _knew_ who it was and what Elanee had done, though he didn't know exactly how he knew. But he did. He nodded his head in both acknowledgment and approval. "Wouldn't an arrow through the throat or between the shoulder blades have been easier? Or let her rot in Nasher's gaol?"

Elanee didn't answer. She had walked off and was sprinkling seeds around the field, and he went to join her, taking a handful and scattering them randomly to the wind. When they had finished, he watched as she cast a spell that accelerated the growth of the plants. Then she called down a rain storm. Within minutes, green shoots grew into trees and bushes and other plants, which filled the field. They sprouted leaves that within a few minutes turned orange and brown and fell to the ground, and a few minutes later, new vibrant green leaves sprouted and fresh wildflowers appeared, and the cycle began again. After ten cycles or so, the spell ended with the last shedding of the new grove's leaves. Bishop watched in wonder as Elanee beamed at her work, and then he helped her as she began to collect seeds. "Never really appreciated druidic magic much before now, but I gotta admit I'm impressed. It feels different here now too, more peaceful."

She smiled at him. "It's not me, it's Silvanus's work though me. It's easy enough to take the life of one who has taken so many lives of others, and she did deserve death for what she did. But isn't it better to allow that person to pay Nature back? That's what we druids think, and it's certainly better than letting her rot in a gaol."

He looked back at the willow tree. "It can't be that easy. Sounds like some powerful magic to me."

She sighed. "It is indeed. But then I've grown powerful in the past two years. I've been made the archdruid of the Neverwinter Wood, and beyond, as far as the edges of _Merdelain_. Such power comes with the office, along with a great deal of responsibility. But such powerful magic cannot be cast often, even by an archdruid. For one thing, I had to sacrifice some of my life force to power it."

He muttered, "Your god has some pretty heavy requirements."

She shook her head emphatically. "My god, no. Silvanus would never require me to do this. It was my idea. Mind you, it's not something I'm going to do very often, but then again I hope I don't have to."

He helped her sort the seeds they had gathered. "You've given me a lot to think about."

She handed several pouches to him. "Glad to help, and I mean that, Hunter, or should I say _Celaes?_ And you've got a home near my new sacred grove if you want it, if you don't want to return to the Keep or to Neverwinter. There's an abandoned cabin nearby you might like." She pointed off in the distance. "Now let's do something about that hill. If vegetation isn't restored to hold the soil, the whole thing will give way in a mudslide when the heavy rains come, and then we'll lose that creek. Would you like to help?"

He only thought about it for a moment. "Sure thing, but shouldn't we be getting back? What if there is something I'm supposed to do?"

She arched an eyebrow. "Do you think there _is_ something you're supposed to do to help her?"

He shrugged and looked down, then boldly met her eyes. "No. She just saved my ass from the Wall. But if they figure out who took her, you might need my bow when you go get her back."

Many miles away in the port city of Baldur's Gate, Daeghun Farlong left the modest inn where he found accommodations while he met with the local Harpers. The raven was at his side, his waddling walk accentuated by hops bringing a smile to Daeghun's face despite his sadness. The raven was young and still skittish in the bustling city, but Daeghun's presence calmed him. The brief sea voyage here from Waterdeep gave them time to get to know one another better, but their bond was still fresh. The raven flew up and landed gracefully on his shoulder, no small feat considering the size of the bird, though he was small as far as ravens go. He stroked the side of the bird's head with his slender index finger. "Are you getting hungry, _Mas_, _valael_ friend? We'll be at my friend's home soon."

The bird responded with a deep, throaty trill. "_It is interesting to see so many different two-legged flocks and how they make their nests, but I will be happy when we're back in the forest. And I know you want to see Badger-woman again too."_

His cheeks grew warm thinking about Elanee, despite his concern for his daughter. He scolded himself, telling himself he was far too old to behave like a lovestruck boy. But he hadn't felt this way in years, not since the night he found Shayla waiting for him in his room...It occurred to him as he looked down the street that the inn where that happened wasn't far from this very spot either, as if he was coming full circle. He murmured, "Life is strange, Mas."

He hadn't been able to think about that first night with Shayla, or any other night with her for that matter, without ripping open the old wound, until now. He thought back to when he first saw her in a village marketplace during a mission in Zhentil Keep. She was defending a woman being accosted by a pack of local thugs but in way over her head until he and his companions stepped in to help. Esmerelle hadn't liked Shayla at first, yet she talked him into letting her accompany them "to keep the little tin-can brat out of any more trouble until she figures out which end of her sword is the pointy end." He smiled at the memory.

But Shayla was well trained despite having just left West Harbor and despite Esmerelle's skepticism. After observing her in battle he was very impressed with her uncle, who had been head of the West Harbor militia then, without even having met the man. Daeghun could tell he was an old campaigner who had seen at least one unprepared village fall to an attacker and was determined that the same thing wouldn't happen to West Harbor. Shayla told him she and her cousin Georg had been in a friendly competition to become his lieutenant before she took to the road. Thus she definitely knew which end of her sword was pointy, and despite her youth she also had mastered a wicked shield-bash technique.

She was so young...Esmerelle swore she would turn tail and run back home before a tenday was up, but Shayla proved her wrong, and she was still traveling with Daeghun and his company two years later, long after Esmerelle had left them to return to her life on the stage in Neverwinter. The three of them had become close friends by then. He had grown to value Shayla's ferocious fighting skills, her uncanny ability to make anyone feel at ease, and her thirst for justice. But she wasn't afraid to argue with him if she thought he was making the wrong decision.

He also couldn't help but notice that she was an attractive woman, even in her armor. Human women had never interested him, but she was different. Then as the months passed, he caught himself watching her more and more when she wasn't looking (or so he had thought, as she told him later), wanting to touch her thick brown hair or gaze into her emerald eyes, or taste her lips. He found excuses to talk with her just to be with her, and more than once was embarrassed when he realized he was watching her lips, her face, but not listening to what she was telling him.

But he locked his feelings away and refused to make a move in spite of her obvious interest in him too. First off, she was young, he reminded himself again and again, and second, she was human. He had never been one to engage in trysts, and he asked himself what kind of a life could they hope to have together when she would be gone all too soon. He kept this to himself and resolved to make his heart like stone, but he would discover that Shayla had an uncanny ability to read his mind, a skill that would become more evident over their too-brief years together.

So she made the first move. Even then, discovering her waiting for him in his bed dressed in only her chemise, his first instinct was to throw her out for her own good, as well as his. But she was undeterred by his objections and found a counter for all of his arguments as she sat there in his bed with her knees drawn up to her chest and her arms wrapped around her legs. She pointed out that no one knows how long he or she will live, and told him that it would be foolish of them not to make the most of what time they would have together. She chipped away at the wall he built to protect his heart until it crumbled to dust. And suddenly he couldn't imagine living another day without her.

While nothing more than lying in one another's arms talking half the night away happened that night, within a matter of days, they were officially a couple. By then, they were both tired of trying to save the world and ready to give up the adventuring life and settle down. She took him back to her home, a place she had sworn she would never return to, and the Harbormen welcomed him and made him feel like it was his home too. Two months later they were married, with Esmerelle acting as the bridesmaid and Oleff performing the ceremony.

He murmured, "We were very happy, my love, despite my not being able to give you a child of your own." The raven made a low, rattling sound in his throat, which reminded Daeghun of a cat purring.

But they had each other. They discussed adopting a child or two from one of the orphanages in the cities. Esmerelle was an regular visitor to their home while traveling between Neverwinter and Waterdeep, back to her adventuring life. Then came the day she showed up on their doorstep preceded by her huge belly, wild-eyed and bedraggled, looking like all the fiends of the hells were after her. They never asked what she was running from, but he and Shayla both noticed that she seemed like she was looking over her shoulder all the time. He helped Shayla deliver the baby when the time came. Neither of them asked who the father was, and she never volunteered any information. She asked Shayla to promise take care of her daughter if anything should happen to her, as if she expected her death was imminent. But nothing came for her as the months passed and her baby grew into a healthy toddler.

Esmerelle wasn't made for life in a small village that didn't even have a tavern to perform in, and where each day was much like the previous. It was monotonous, which was comforting as an old quilt to Daeghun and Shayla, but like being in prison to Esmerelle. Restless, she decided to travel and seek out adventure again just for a season. He never told Dee that, nor that he and Shayla both knew Esmerelle well enough to know a season would grow into two or three and she would return infrequently, mainly out of guilt. It wouldn't matter. The girl already had two mothers, and now she would have one in Shayla, while her birth mother would become like a glamorous aunt who would blow into the village on the east wind bearing a trunk full of gifts and disappear just as quickly. The only problem Shayla could see would be if Esmerelle showed up one day expecting to take the girl with her.

And then came the battle that changed their lives forever. It happened so fast. Most of the villagers were out in the fields gathering the last of the harvest. When they saw the fiends approaching, Esmerelle ran back to the house to warn Shayla and get her and her daughter to safety in the swamp while he joined the militia in the rye field. But with their home being on the furthest edge of the village and closest to the swamp, the battle between the King of Shadows and the warlock took place practically on their doorstep. Esmerelle and Shayla ran out the door with their daughter and unknowingly ran right into the middle of it.

He had blamed her for their deaths for a long time. If Esmerelle had stayed with him, Shayla might have remained safe in the house. And their daughter wouldn't have been wounded by the shard that ripped through her mother's body and into hers. He had felt that part of him died that day his love died, and he knew to his shame it had affected how he had raised their daughter, being dutiful but never opening his heart to her. And now that it might be too late...Did he deserve another chance at happiness with Elanee when he had failed his child time and time again?

But it had been his daughter's wish to see them joined. Her attempts at matchmaking had been obvious, clumsy, and fortunately few, but nevertheless, he realized now that they had worked. It was like with Shayla all over again, though she and Elanee were as different as night and day. But Elanee was one of his kind, and they served the same god, and most of all, she was even more at home in the wild than he was.

All those years he had known someone was watching the village, but as there was no threat, he had paid her no mind. He knew the druids liked to observe what was happening throughout the land their circle was responsible for. Naevan was the only one of their circle he ever had dealings with. Elanee was a shadow that traveled silently through the swamp, and he only caught glimpses of her, though he could have confronted her if he had wanted to. When he saw her as his daughter rode into town with her company, he thought that she was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. He had to force himself to take his eyes off her. But he immediately dismissed his budding attraction. She was far too young for him, or so he thought until he got to know her better and learned she possessed a maturity far beyond her years.

He realized with a start that he had arrived at his destination while his mind was on love lost and found. When he first arrived Daeghun had made contacts with a few old friends and acquaintances, some who were very old now, but so far his search had been fruitless. No one had any news of his daughter, but they promised to pass the word along and send him word at once if they heard anything. His ship that would take him back north was not due to sail until the next day at highsun, and so he and his raven companion had accepted an invitation to stay with the family of another Harper he had traveled with many years ago, rather than stay at the inn.

Much time had passed since he had last seen Barton, whom he had known around the time he also traveled with Oleff. The last time he had seen him was at his wedding to Shayla. He only recognized his old friend now because of his bright green eyes and his booming laugh that hadn't been diminished by time, though his coal black hair was now white as snow, and his heavily lined face was a map of all his life's experiences. Daeghun smiled as he watched Barton bounced one of his grandsons on his knee as other children ran in and out of the room, interrupting their conversation. Daeghun thought wistfully that he couldn't wait until his daughter had children of her own, and that thought threatened to lead him down the path to despair. But he would not give in to it.

They were finished with supper and were talking over tea and fruit. Barton's wife Faelyn had found an extra chair to serve as a perch for Mas so he could join them at the table, to the delight of the children as he picked up pieces fruit from his plate with his beak and tossed them into the air before catching and swallowing them. He looked over and cawed at the sound of a bird's wings flapping outside the kitchen window. A minute later, someone knocked on the door. "_No bird that, is a shapeshifter," _ Mas informed Daeghun.

One of Barton's sons opened the door, revealing a man who Daeghun guessed was a druid from his plain green robe and the strands of mistletoe woven into his shoulder-length blond forebraids. Barton's son listened to him for a moment then turned to the others. "Father, he says there are two people at the Harper Hall who have come all the way from Rashemen who Daeghun needs to talk to."

The druid stepped into the room and approached the elf. "Are you Daeghun Farlong? It may be nothing, but these two said they are taking a letter north to the temple of Tyr in Neverwinter, but they wouldn't let any of us see it. They were directed to us because one of them, Calishamite from his garb, mentioned "wendersnaven" two times to one of our contacts in the market, and we were trying to determine whether they were serious or only looking for adventure."

Daeghun stood, looking alarmed. "Wendersnaven? They wouldn't know that unless..."

The druid nodded. "That's why he and the Shou lass with him were directed to the hall. We asked him what that meant. The boy doesn't know what it means, though He said the woman who paid for them to bring the letter was askin' about the Wendersnaven in the marketplace in Mulsantir, and that his father made him memorize the word before he left Rashemen and told him to be sure to ask in the marketplaces if anyone could tell him about them. We suspect his father must be a friend of the Harpers or at least recognized that it was a code."

"I must go speak with them at once." Daeghun made a hasty apology to his hosts, but Barton insisted on accompanying him. Mas squawked and flew over to Daeghun, alighting on his shoulder.

The druid, who went by Red Oak, led them to a hidden side entrance at the hall then down the stairs. He knocked four times on a door at the end of a corridor, which was opened by a young human woman Daeghun had met the day before. He was shown into a comfortable sitting room, where two other Harpers were finishing supper with the two travelers in question, who looked like two boys to the causal observer. Daeghun hurried across the room, not wasting time with formalities. "Red Oak told me you have word of my daughter?" The Calishamite boy looked him over skeptically. Daeghun corrected himself. "My foster daughter, Dierdre Farlong." He added a brief description of her and Cillian for good measure. "Please, tell me what you know of her."

The Calishamite boy smiled toothily. "Indeed, that was the name she gave, and that is the northwoman exactly, and her bear, though now she also travels with the great bear spirit Okku, who had come to the city with his mighty army to kill her because of her curse. The entire city watched their battle from the city walls! It was a most glorious battle! Oh, if you could have seen it! But then she defeated him instead." He flushed as his companion hissed his name and nudged him, and he realized the elf was staring at him in horror.

He stood and bowed deeply and asked for forgiveness, but Daeghun urged him on. "Please, I must know where she is no matter how bad the news." The Harpers in the room filed out to give them some privacy, though Barton told Daeghun he would wait outside.

The boy bowed again. "I am Omar, first son of Azim and Mavish, and this is my friend Jade. Your foster daughter asked my father if he could send her missive on when he returned to the west so that her loved ones would know eventually what became of her if the bear god ate her. Oh, but he didn't. Everyone thought she would eat him instead, being afflicted with the spirit eater curse, but she spared him, though some still thought she should be cast from the top of the city walls onto the rocks below."

He flinched as his friend nudged him again. "So anyway, the Thayan mage with her told her she should send her missive anyway in case she cannot find a way to end the curse and well, she dies." He sidestepped another nudge from his companion and regretted that he took after his mother and spoke bluntly. But the elf had a right to know it all. "She paid my father a goodly sum for his trouble, and so my he sent me with Korbuin the carpet monger, who was leaving the next day, rather than have the message be delayed until the rest of my family was returning in the spring. And so here we are."

But their story didn't add up. "You got here all the way from Mulsantir that fast? And yet you have no horses."

The boy looked from his friend to the elf. His friend shrugged and replied, "We had help."

Guessing that no more information would be forthcoming, Daegun changed the subject. "Could I see this missive then? I would like to read it."

Omar shook his head sadly. "Would that I could, but I cannot give it to you. I am sorry, but I was paid to deliver it to the temple of Tyr in Neverwinter so that it might be forwarded to the lady's husband, and I gave my solemn word to my father that I would see it done as she wished." But after another nudge and a whisper from his friend, he thought better of it. "I suppose I would not be breaking my vow to let you see the letter." He reached into his pack and pulled out a leather folder and carefully withdrew a thick letter inside and held it up for Daeghun.

It only took Daeghun a second's perusal to know it was from her. "Yes, that is her hand, and it's addressed to the High Justicar. I know him well. I traveled with him when he was not much older than you. But her husband might be at Crossroad Keep rather than at the temple of Tyr. If it would set your mind at ease, you may travel north with me and I will take you to the High Justicar. There is a ship leaving tomorrow bound for Waterdeep then on to Neverwinter, and I can arrange your passage."

Omar whispered to his friend, who whispered back. They continued in this fashion for a few minutes, testing Daeghun's patience. Finally they made a decision. "We were planning to leave tonight after we bought fresh provisions. We were thinking perhaps you could travel with us instead."

Daeghun was about to object and point out that it would be much faster to go by sea when the boy knelt and untied several cords that were binding what looked like a carpet. He rolled it out as Daeghun looked at him as if he had lost his mind. "Let me explain, sir. Our caravan was attacked by bandits, and the gods allowed me to save the life and the money box of Korbuin, the carpet monger. He told me he could not let a debt like that stand. So he pulled this out of one of his wagons and took us far away from the camp and showed us how it works. You see, sir, it flies!"

Daeghun raised an eyebrow. "I have heard of such carpets. I wouldn't be surprised if it's sentient. That was quite a generous gift."

Omar showed how two straps attached to the long fringe on one end were used to guide the carpet. "Indeed, but such carpets are very common in Al Quaddim, where Korbuin was born. He told us he had kept it for an emergency if he needed to make a fast escape or to sell for a magnificent sum when he was ready to retire after this run, but now it is mine. I think...we should all three be able to fit on it if we lash ourselves to it and to each other so that no one falls off."

Lotus muttered, "You were the one who almost fell off, twice."

Omar shrugged. "That is why another person would be helpful, so we can have one asleep and two awake. You should be familiar with landmarks even from the air, and that will save us time if we don't have to stop and ask for directions."

Lotus muttered again, "Not like you ever stop to ask directions. I'm the one who stopped here."

Omar ignored her and continued. "If we take turns sleeping and steering, we should reach your northern city in but a few days!"


	57. My Dinner With Kelemvor

Chapter 57 My Dinner with Kelemvor

Usual disclaimers: Most of the characters in this chapter are owned by a good many other people and not me, except a paladin and bear-loving ranger and her best friend.

Note: I looked at various sites such as Candlekeep dot com and Wizards dot com's boards, trying to get an understanding of the afterlife and the Wall of the Faithless in the _Forgotten Realms_ setting. But there didn't seem to be a consensus, so I winged it. If anyone has a definitive reference, feel free to point the way through a PM.

Kelemvor, the god of the dead. Here in his realm, his power and majesty were palpable, even though this was only one of his avatars, and she did not stand in the full presence of the god himself. It was hard for her to believe that not too long ago, he had been a mortal man. There was nothing to do but prostrate herself before him, though of her companions, only Okku and Cillian followed her lead.

A calm, gentle voice called to her. "Dierdre Farlong, rise. You have finally accomplished what none of the many who came before you could not."

"But not without a price for our fair leader." There was an accusatory tone to Gann's voice.

"Yes, with a price. Such great evil as Myrkul created cannot not be undone without sacrifice, hagspawn. You should know that." Okku was equally accusatory.

Dee stumbled as she got to her feet, not daring to look upon his face, even though it was completely hidden behind an ornate silver death mask. Her legs felt liquid, as if they would not bear her weight. She asked hoarsely, "Then the curse is truly finished?" Okku and Cillian got up and moved closer to her for support. Gann and Safiya glanced at one another then quickly away, both of them trying not to acknowledge the presence of this god, which would force them to acknowledge all the gods.

Kelemvor's voice was surprisingly soft, and it caused Dee to ask herself as she listened what she had expected. Something gruff, like Ammon Jerro's? "It is truly over. You did what I and the other gods could not, though it pained me to hear your complaining about my lack of assistance while you fought the invaders in my Gray City. I'm sorry, but I could not directly help you."

Dee flushed in shame and looked at the ground. "Forgive me."

Okku's deep, rumbling voice explained why to Dee and the others. "Kelemvor knew Myrkul's curse was unjust, little one. But I think that if he had undone it himself, he would have called down the wrath of all the other gods on not only on himself, but also on the mortal realm for overturning another god's judgment."

Dee nodded at Okku, still trying to find the strength to stand. "A challenge to one is a challenge to the authority of all the gods. That's what kept me from joining Kaelyn's crusade. I got that, but I couldn't convince her."

"Yes, no matter how unjust I felt Myrkul's curse was, I was forbidden from overturning his decree against Akachi. Come, let us return to _Eternity's End_ where you can sit down as we talk." Kelemvor offered her a gray velvet gloved hand, which she took without hesitation. Okku and Cillian were hard behind her. She didn't bother to look to see if Safiya and Gann were following, but she hoped they were making note of where they were and all that had happened. In no time at all, they were standing before the great temple. The massive door opened from a mere gesture, and he led them down corridors until they reached a small audience chamber.

The room was done in shades of gray and black, like so much of his city. A large gleaming round table was the main feature, which looked like it was cut from a solid piece of onyx, with a massive set of silver scales suspended by a skeletal arm decorating the table, not etched into the stone but seemingly floating just under the onyx surface. High backed chairs upholstered in gray were arranged around the table, and at the far end was a chair that looked more like a throne, decorated with skulls. Dee wanted to ask if living with all the grayness and death imagery was depressing, but that seemed overly familiar as she remembered her place.

A woman clad in a long pigeon gray robe slipped silently out of a door that Dee hadn't noticed, carrying a tray of crystal goblets filled with a ruby liquid. She gave a goblet to each of them, even Okku and Cillian, and bowed. Kelemvor gestured at them. "Please, drink this. I have not been a god for so long that I have forgotten how to be a host. You will find it quite refreshing after your trials."

He was right. Dee took a sip of the sweet wine, and a feeling of warmth and wellbeing sped through her body. It was more potent than any healing potion she had ever drunk, more like drinking _life_. They all drank deeply. Even Okku hooked a claw around the delicate goblet, raised it to his maw, and drank, though Cillian was content to lap the wine from the goblet. In a matter of heartbeats Dee no longer felt like it was all she could do to remain standing upright, and as she looked around at her companions, she saw that they were similarly restored.

Kelemvor stood beside the throne and offered his hand to Dee again. "Come, sit here."

A chair slid out noiselessly across the slate floor. She sat down and then blinked after what seemed like only a heartbeat later as she realized that all of her companions, other than Cillian, were gone. The bear nuzzled her as she looked around in confusion. She was about to ask what happened to them, but Kelemvor anticipated her question. "What I have to say is for your ears alone, and so once they were refreshed, they were escorted by my servants out to wait for you. Not many mortals are afforded such an audience. Do not be afraid. Now where were we?"

She gazed at Kelemvor. "Thank you, I am honored." She closed her eyes and leaned forward with her forehead on the table, guessing the reason that he wanted to speak with her alone. "And I am ready to fulfill my part of our bargain. I only ask that I be allowed to wait in your gray city until my husband's time comes. That is, if that won't make me false to Meilikki." She waited for death to come, wondering if it would be as simple as his removing a glove and touching her. She hoped it would be quick.

"Did we have a bargain?" There was a note of confusion in his voice.

She raised her head slightly. "The one where I offered my life if my companions were spared death? I'm ready." She gasped and sat up then asked in alarm, "Unless they're already dead...unless it was their time?"

"Only one of those who accompanied you to the Illefarn ruin has come before me, but you know that. You said a prayer over her that I would forgive her. There was no need, for her god Kossuth gladly claimed her as soon as she arrived." He was silent for a maddening few moments before he continued. "As far as any bargain between us, by its very nature, a bargain is dependent upon an agreement between two or more parties, is it not? You may have made an offer to me, but I would have to have accepted it for a contract, pact, or bargain between us to have been formed, correct? And I did not."

She flushed in embarrassment and shame because of how presumptuous she had been, and she told him so as she begged his forgiveness again. "I only thought if I could spare any of them, I would. I didn't expect to survive the battle in the Mere."

"And yet here you are." His voice had been so measured, but she thought now she detected a hint of amusement. "As I was saying, even the gods are bound by laws. This is one of the most frustrating parts of being a god, having this power and wanting to respond to the prayers of our faithful, but being unable to do so. I was accused by Cyric before great Ao and the council of the gods of failing to relinquish my humanity in my dealing with the dead. As a consequence, I have made changes in my realm and now monitor my actions to ensure I maintain a balance, so that I don't give him another opportunity. I imagine it was equally frustrating for Meilikki, or Tyr, whom you call upon almost as much as you do her. But we helped when we could indirectly, by helping your companions. Many of the gods, good, neutral, and even evil, were watching your struggle. We knew if a mere mortal could end the curse, it would show there had always been a way for Akachi himself to end his suffering. And you found it."

She was wishing she had more of the ruby wine, and with a start, her goblet had been refilled. She drank it down before she replied. " It wasn't me. I turned Myrkul's own power on him. I think Akachi must have showed me how to twist the curse, though in truth there was little of him left. But he had centuries to use what remained of his mind to puzzle out the curse and the way to end it. Then with the help of his brother and his lover, I was able to awaken him just long enough so he stopped trying to destroy me. And now he's back in the Wall."

He nodded. "Indeed, but not for much longer. As you said, there isn't much of his soul left."

"Yes, he's gone now." She closed her eyes, keeping one hand on Cillian to ground herself. She didn't know how she knew, but she did. "And what now, if we don't have a bargain?" Dee's question sounded blunter than she had intended, and she flinched at the shrillness in her voice.

He responded softly, "As you suggested to Araman not so long ago, go now and live what is left of your life. As a mortal you cannot remain here for long, but my realm is at the nexus of all planes, and you will find many portals here that will take you anywhere you choose. Some can even take you to the worlds parallel to Aber-Toril or to any of the planes. Feel free to make use of them, and when death comes to you, I welcome you to spend at least part of your afterlife guarding my realm. But I can see by your face you have questions you wish to ask me before you go." The god steepled his index fingers under his chin in a way that oddly reminded her of Sand.

Dee wanted nothing more than to run out and find the first portal that would take her home, but he was right, she had too many burning questions, and she might never get another opportunity to have them answered. "May I ask about someone?"

He didn't wait for her to ask the question, as if he knew what she was going to ask before she formed the words. "Yes, what you saw at the _Wall of the Faithless_ was real, though you were only here in your astral form that time. Your companion you encountered in the Wall is gone. He did not struggle with his fate like most do, and so the Wall has consumed him much faster than most."

She gasped then covered her mouth, not from his words, but because she was certain he was _wrong_. Her reason argued that was merely wishful thinking. And why should she care after what he did, another part of her argued. She looked down at the scales in the table and murmured after a few moments, "Bish chose his fate." Yet she was certain Kelemvor was wrong. He was a god, but she knew the gods weren't omniscient, except Ao, and the scholars weren't even certain about that.

Could it be she still bore the sliver of Myrkul's power that came to her in the Wall, and that let her see what Kelemvor could not? And what did that mean for her? She pressed him. "But did he deserve his fate? Bishop—something must have happened to him when he was young to destroy his faith, and his training in Luskan didn't help either. Is it fair for him to be held accountable for that? Or for anyone to be held accountable? And what about someone who spends his life in the wilds and never learns of the gods? Is it fair for him to be held faithless too?"

Kelemvor answered impassively, "It was still Bishop's choice. He had many examples around him during his life of priests who weren't corrupt, and people whose faith was real, such as you and your paladin."

She fought back tears as she thought about him. "He was always happiest when he was out hunting in the wild, or simply being out of doors. Would that I could argue for his sake that he wasn't faithless, and that he worshiped Nature itself. Or the hunt. He never gave up when he was on the trail of game, even if he had to track it for days. And the way he hunted Luskans...he was as dutiful in that as any of the Malarites I've come across in Rashemen and Thay."

He steepled his fingers again as he listened, then was silent for a moment before he replied. "I cannot answer for Malar, who is wild and chaotic and does what he will, even with his departed followers. But it is still up to the gods to claim the souls of their faithful. And if a god either does not claim or rejects someone, I have no choice but to judge him or her false or faithless. More to your point, however, might I remind you there is a deity of Nature; several, in fact. And did you and your companion not travel with a druid of Silvanus, chief of the gods of nature? He had ample opportunity to observe true faith through her."

The woman in gray reappeared with bowls of fruit, bread, and something which must pass as meat, which she set before her. Dee felt chastened by his gentle rebuke, yet she couldn't let it go. "You're saying you can't help it if the gods are lax in claiming their own. But it's not fair to us mortals. If the gods are bound by law not to ignore their followers, shouldn't it be a law that they must come daily and retrieve their dead or formally declare why they've rejected one? Don't they owe that to the mortals who give them their power?"

She was on a roll, so she took a breath so her voice wouldn't sound so strident before she continued. "And I say that false priests who destroy faith are equally at fault, and their gods should deal with them accordingly. Why should someone end up in the Wall because of that? Forgive me, but that's what I believe." She took an apple from the bowl and handed it to Cillian, and toyed with another nervously waiting for Kelemvor either to reply or to strike her down.

His voice reflected infinite patience. "Some of what you say is true, but I have no authority over the other gods or their priests, only the mortals who come before me. If their gods are lax as you say, or if their priests are lazy or corrupt, there is nothing _I_ can do about it. I can only answer for my own priesthood. The other gods deal with their own."

She wrapped her arms around herself to stop herself from trembling. "They need an advocate to take their side if they insist they haven't been faithless or false. Ao then? Forgive me, but if he makes the laws, shouldn't he enforce them too, or amend them as need be when the gods have found a way around them?"

Was it a breeze as the woman came through the door again and set another dish before her, or did she detect a sigh as he answered? "I cannot answer for Lord Ao. He is not overly concerned about what we gods do as long as we uphold our portfolios and do not completely ignore our worshipers. In truth, he would rather be forgotten by mortals, and that is why he acknowledges no worshipers of his own. The best way I can explain it is to say that he is like a clockmaker who winds the clock he has created then pays it no mind, as long as it works as it should. The last time he got involved in the affairs of the gods and men, well, you know how that turned out."

She nodded sadly in agreement. Toril surely didn't need another _Time of Troubles_. There was another question that weighed heavy on her mind, but she couldn't bring herself to ask it, and he for once didn't anticipate her. He sat across from her in the same position, and she understood the reason for the death mask besides reinforcing the death imagery. Those who came before him would be unable to read any emotion on his face. After a maddening moment during which she nervously ate something...she couldn't remember what...as she waited for him to say something, she lost her nerve and thought of something else. "Kaelyn the Dove. What has become of her? Did you judge her false?"

He shook his head. "Do not fear for her. Though she was indeed false to me, Illmater had accepted her as his priest and has already claimed her. Even for priests, changing gods is akin to changing jobs in the mortal realm. As long as they are faithful to the new god, the prior god has nothing to say about them. Mind you, that doesn't mean that some gods won't seek revenge as a jilted lover might. And I am personally dealing with Kaelyn's grandfather and her siblings as we speak, but I cannot say if they will blame you for her death."

She wiped away a few frustrated tears again and felt like she might never know the feeling of a light heart. "And pursue me for revenge, you mean? But I did everything I could think of to convince her she was wrong." They sat in silence for a few minutes. She stroked Cillian's head as he licked her hand and helped himself to whatever she had been holding in it.

"Indeed, you did." There was a tone of finality to his statement, as if that was the end of the discussion.

Yet he made no move to end their audience, and she began to wonder if he was waiting for her to take her leave. But she sat there looking at his mask, and after a few more maddening minutes of silence, she asked softly, "There was a woman in my village who helped raise me. She was killed along with many in West Harbor. What I want to know is where did she...I mean...she told me about something she had done..." She put her face in her hands. "Her name is...was Rhetta Starling." She couldn't bear to look at him as she waited for his reply.

She nearly jumped out of her skin when his soft voice broke the silence a few moments later. "Yes, Rhetta Starling, one of the many victims of the Shadow King. She was claimed by Chauntea along with two of her children and many others from West Harbor, once they were freed from his dark influence. Lathander claimed most of the rest of the villagers. Have no fear, the Shadow King had no power to destroy their souls. Once they were freed from their unwilling servitude as his shadows, they passed on. But I do not judge people's lives. I merely examine them as I said, to determine their standing with their gods. It is then up to their gods to declare them false to me because of their actions, or to accept them then deal with them when they reach their own realm."

He paused for a moment before continuing as if reviewing something. "And there is more regarding the terrible knowledge she shared with you, that you vowed to keep for her until you came into my presence. I can tell you, now that you are here, that the unfortunate woman suffered shame and guilt for years that ruined her health, for a crime she did not commit. You see, she did not kill her husband in self-defense as she believed. The truth is, her son Lorne discovered that his father was badly injured but still breathing as he was about to push him into the grave he had just dug for him, and so he finished him by striking him across his neck with the shovel. His first murder, as it were. If she had looked in the grave, she would have seen that, but he told her not to look. You haven't asked me about Lorne Starling, but he was claimed by Loviatar."

She was shaking. It took all her strength to whisper, "Thank you." It took all of her strength not to faint. Cillian paused from where he stood with his forelegs on the table devouring the remaining food, to give her a comforting nuzzle.

"Now if that answers all your questions...but no, I don't sense you are finished." That tone of infinite patience was back, and she wondered how long it would last.

She still hadn't worked up the nerve. "What will become of the Founder when she finally dies? The way I see it, she has great and enduring faith in the power of love, so much so that nothing else mattered." But the Founder wasn't Dee's real concern. Safiya was.

"I think what you are asking is what will happen when she dies and her soul rejoins that of the Red Wizard who accompanied you? I honestly cannot tell you Safiya's fate until her time comes. If the goddess of love accepts her, I would allow it. But if not...who's to say what affect this experience will have on her? Frankly, if she remains faithless after seeing indisputable proof of the existence of the gods, and knowing what will become of her if she remains in that state, she would have to be mad."

She accepted that. "And what about Gann? I could see him becoming a telthor when he dies. And though by your standards he's faithless, is he? Some power nevertheless grants his spells." She thought she was crossing the line, but she had grown surprisingly fond of the hagspawn over the past few months and couldn't bear the thought of him being cast into the Wall.

Kelemvor leaned back in his throne. "Telthors are similar to ghosts. The difference is that most of the time ghosts don't realize that they're died and fail leave the Prime to make their way here, or they remain behind seeking revenge, while telthors are quite conscious that they've passed beyond the mortal realm. Rashemen is different in that the souls of the living beings there, men and beasts, are strongly bound to the land, and they often do not pass on, but choose to stay as guardians." He sat forward so that he was sitting close to her again. "I sense that there is something else you are avoiding asking. Please, don't be afraid."

She swallowed hard. There was no more putting it off. "Very well. What happens to those who die too young to choose a god? Surely they aren't condemned to go to the Wall? How could that be just?"

He placed a gloved hand over hers and squeezed it softly. "First of all, I can assure you that a soul isn't bound to a baby until birth, when it is released from the plane of positive energy and begins life. And if a child is too young to have found faith when death comes, the soul returns there and waits to be reborn. It's cold comfort, but the child _you_ lost didn't go to the Wall as it didn't yet have a soul, and some day that soul that would have joined with it will have another chance at life. But even if these innocent souls were consigned to the Wall, they would be absorbed in mere heartbeats."

A few sobs escaped her, but she managed to control herself enough to murmur, "Thank you." She reached over and stroked Cillian's back, who had finished everything on the table and dropped back beside her. "But even for a heartbeat, would it feel pain? So many of those I heard there were screaming in pain and terror. Surely there's a better way to deal with the faithless? I know you give care to those sentenced to the Wall, unlike those who came before you, but I was wrongly cast into the Wall. If I was there, could there be others? Even one would be too many."

He stroked the chin of his mask thoughtfully. "True, but remember you were there only because you took Akachi's place through Myrkul's curse. It wasn't as if you came before me. I thought as you did once. When I first ascended, I vowed to bring down the Wall. But I think you are wise enough to understand that the other gods opposed my plan though many of them also hated it, and why."

She nodded. "Because without the Wall, mortals would not fear death, and many would turn from the gods. And I've heard that the gods depend on the prayers of their followers for their power and status. So if they lose worshipers, they lose power, and they can even die."

He moved closer, and spoke just above a whisper. "That's part of it. But there is more, Dierdre. I can tell you truthfully that if mortals turned from the gods, many of the them, even the good and just gods, would turn on them in righteous anger and destroy them utterly. Thus the Wall is a necessary evil that protects mortals from themselves."

She felt exhausted again, and she wrapped her arms around herself, feeling a chill that cut through her. She feared no amount of his elixir would restore her. She asked grimly, "I have one more question before I go. It's about the fraction of Myrkul's power I gained from Akachi's curse. What happens now? How do you take it from me?"

He leaned closer again, as if he was peering into her eyes, or perhaps her soul, through the mask. "Interesting. Yes, it is just a minuscule spark, just enough to have revived Myrkul so he could take you over if you had believed his lie and tried to devour him. However, I am unable to remove it from you while you live, and it's not your time to stand before me." He gave her a humanlike shrug. "We will deal with that problem when your time comes. For now, as I said, try to live your life. I can't promise you that it won't have some effect on you, however."

She stood and bowed. "Thank you for all that you've done. I would be honored to serve you guarding your realm, or using this power to serve as an advocate for the souls waiting to come before you."

"An advocate. Interesting. We shall see." He stood as well. "Before you go, I would like to show you something as my small way of thanking you." He led her to another room, empty except for a large crystal sphere filled with light. "Milhil has granted us permission to observe his realm." He stood before it and waved his hand, and in a heartbeat she could hear music, the most hearbreakingly beautiful music she knew she would ever hear. It was almost too much to bear. The light in the sphere faded to reveal a vast choir. He waved his hand again slightly, and the image shifted, zooming in on the choir until it focused on a radiant woman with pale blond hair, whose sweet soprano voice now stood out from the rest.

Dee gasped as she recognized her. "That's my mother!" She watched the image until it faded from view, tears streaming down her cheeks.

Kelemvor said gently, "Come now, your companions are waiting for you."

Before she knew it, they stood before another door. It opened, revealing her companions seated around a table, who all jumped up as she and Cillian walked in. She looked back, but Kelemvor was gone. But she sensed he was still watching her, and Cillian chuffed at the air, as if he could see him. She dried her eyes as Safiya put her arms around her and told her how concerned they had been, and Okku crowded in next to Cillian to welcome her back too.

Gann stood back, but he was the first to speak of their next step. "What now, fair leader? Shall we leave this dismal place and get you back into the loving arms of your paladin?"

Dee broke away from Safiya. "Yes, it's just a matter of finding the right portal, and one of Kelemvor's priests is looking for one now. I'm sure that if you want, you can use the portal that will take you back to the Founder's chambers, Safiya. If that's what you want, that is. Gann, Okku, we'll find one that leads back to Rashemen somewhere outside Mulsantir, if that's what you want."

Gann chided her teasingly. "Ready to be rid of us so quickly? You wound this poor hagspawn. I was hoping to travel with you and perhaps see this Neverwinter you've talked so much about. Leaving you now would be like leaving the theater before the final act has concluded."

Safiya gave her another hug. "I would like to travel with you as well to get you safely home and see the City of Skilled Hands. I've never traveled outside of Thay. Perhaps...I can even show your wizard Sand how to use my spare shaper's alembic." It was a measure of how deep her friendship with Dee had become that she would even consider sharing Thayan magic. In addition, now that Safiya had gotten a taste of life outside the halls of her academy, she felt reluctant to go straight back, though she told herself she would eventually return to take her mother's place as headmistress.

Dee smiled at the bear god, his bright fur colorful against the gray background. "What about you, Okku? Autumn is more than half over, and I understand if you want to return to your sleep."

Okku chuffed. "I would walk with you for awhile yet, little one. When my little brother seeks out his den for the winter, then I may leave."

She gave him a hug, easy to do since he stood as high as her shoulder. "Thank you, my friends. Let's go." Yet even as she turned to lead them out the door to find the priest, she had a feeling of dread in the pit of her stomach as strong as a punch as she thought about returning home.

There were several portals that led directly to Neverwinter, but so far none that she wanted to use. It was tempting to use the one that led to the song portal in the ruins of Arvhan since she knew the way back from there. But that would mean nearly another tenday of travel. The priest showed her one portal that led to a secret temple of Mask, so that one was out of the question. Another looked like it led to a crypt. "Looks like the Tomb of the Betrayers," she muttered. "We would be locked in until a priest from the Temple of Tyr came to do his rounds." But then the priest showed her one that led to the Cloaktower.

She frowned. "On the one hand, that one's probably safest, but any mage on the other side is likely to cast first and ask questions later."

"We will cast protective spells then. I think it would be wise for me to change out of my Thayan robes, however, so your mages don't think they're being invaded." Safiya pulled a green silk brocade robe out of her magic bag and gestured for Gann to turn around. He replied with a taunting leer and a smirk, but after Okku growled a warning, he turned around (as he had intended after teasing her for a moment) so she could change.

Dee held out the shadow stone and peered into the portal. "I don't see anyone, but I imagine alarms will go off as soon as we step through."

Okku stepped up beside her. "Then I will go first, little one."

"I'm curious to see where this temple of Mask is before we go." Anxious as she was to leave, (but also to to stay), her Harper training took over. She walked over to the portal and held up the shadow stone and peered around. "Doesn't look like a temple, it looks like a meeting room." she muttered.

"No, but then secrecy is the nature of that god," the priest replied helpfully. "More than likely the god's image is hidden, perhaps behind a false panel."

Dee looked again. "Wait, I know this place! I recognize this room. I went in there while I was looking for Ophala after Melia's funeral. This isn't a temple of Mask at all, it's the_ Moonstone Mask!_ It's the biggest festhall in Neverwinter."

The priest shrugged dismissively. "Well, there was a shrine to Mask there at one time."

Dee shook her head. But she still intended to mention that to Ophala, just in case. Her anxiety eased slightly knowing she was going to someplace familiar, but only slightly. She looked around at her companions. "Are we ready?" They all gave their assent and lined up behind her, and with Okku taking the lead, they left the gray city behind.


	58. Reunion

Chapter 58 Reunion

Usual disclaimers: The characters in this story for the most part are owned by a whole lot of other people and not me, other than a bear and paladin lovin' ranger and an occasional NPC. It's winding down now, and thanks to those who read and review.

Somewhere along the Sword Coast:

Daeghun understood now why Elanee so enjoyed taking the form of a bird as he soared through the night air, steering the magic carpet. His long brown hair streamed behind him as they flew through the pre-dawn darkness. He was the only one of the four awake. The two young humans were curled up in their bedrolls in the center of the carpet, while Mas had made a nest in Daeghun's pack, sleeping with his beak tucked under his wing.

They had made remarkable time in their journey north, as they weren't hindered by darkness. Daeghun could see almost as well at night as he could by day and had taken over the night flying. He had passed his reverie during the days while the other two took turns steering. They had bought a good supply of food before they left Baldur's Gate. Thus they had only stopped to refill their water skins, stretch their legs, and answer the call of nature.

Mas stirred first and greeted Daeghun with a deep rattling call. He smiled at the raven as he hopped over to him and stretched his inky wings. Lathander's first rosy light was breaking over the far horizon. The raven rubbed his beak against Daeghun's arm then hopped back to raid a pouch of dried fruit in the ranger's pack that the clever bird had figured out how to untie. As the first pinks and roses stained the sky, a flock of terns flew by below them, and after taking a few moments to break his fast, Mas dived off the side of the carpet and flew ahead.

By the time the sky lightened to gray and rose streaks gave way to orange, the young Shou woman had awakened, stood carefully to get her balance, and begun stretching, followed by a series of graceful, flowing, rhythmic movements. The surface of the carpet was surprisingly solid, allowing them to walk around (avoiding getting too close to the edges) and even exercise. The force of the air currents didn't seem to hinder her movements either, though Daeghun could only spare her a few glances. He was struck by how Elven she appeared because of her grace, her slender build, and her large green almond-shaped eyes. Even her blue-black hair made her seem more a Moon Elf than human. But no Elven woman he had ever known, and few Elven men, would have cut their hair so short. He guessed she normally shaved her head as many monks do, but had let it grow out as she traveled from her home in Kara Tur to Faerun.

When she had finished with her routine, she dug into her own pack and ate a tangerine and drank some water before she sat on her knees just behind the ranger. She said softly, "Good morning, Master Daeghun."

"Good morning, Lotus. Would you like me to land?" He glanced at her again, conscious that the girl might be too shy to ask.

She bowed her head to him. "That is most kind, but I can wait until Omar awakens." She peered into the distance. "I think I see smoke from many fires over there. Is there a city nearby?" They had skirted the City of Splendors, choosing to fly out over the Sea of Swords rather than raise alarms by being spotted flying over the city. But he had pointed out the smoky haze from the fires in the city's hearths that they could see for miles and miles.

He nodded as he steered left to avoid another flock of surprised birds. "Not just any city, but our destination. We will land an hour's walk outside the city gates so that Omar may roll up the carpet. The boy doesn't want to advertise that he owns such a rare object, and he's wise in that." He frowned as he appeared to be considering something. "Have you thought about how long you will be staying in Neverwinter? My half-brother owns a tavern in the Docks District. I could take you there so you may arrange lodging, though I must warn you it is in an unsavory part of the city."

Lotus bowed her head again. "Thank you, Master Daeghun, but if I am not accepted for training with the _Shining Shield_ or_ Hand of Justice _orders of Tyrran Monks, I will leave with the first caravan to seek training elsewhere. Perhaps back in Waterdeep. My honorable teacher in Shou Lung sent me to travel the world to seek out the proper path I should take to complete my training, and if it is not in Neverwinter, that means it is elsewhere."

He raised an eyebrow. "I see. I was not aware that you worshiped Tyr."

She smiled at him. "I believe in justice. Is that not enough? I know little of this god but that he is the god of justice, but his faith is one that has orders of fighting monks. The Shou people believe one must honor and pray to all the gods, not only one, for the Celestial One has given them each their own tasks, which only they can perform. If you only worshiped the god of justice, how could he help you when your rice crop was in danger? No, for that you must pray to the goddess of agriculture. Or how could he help if you needed the help of he goddess of the home and childbirth?" She blushed, hoping she had not offended the elder and brought dishonor to herself.

But if she had offended him, he covered it well. "It is quite different with the gods of Faerun. In fact, if someone here prayed to all the gods, but was not devoted to any one in particular, he or she would be in danger of being declared faithless by the god of death. But that's not saying we don't pray to a particular god or goddess for help when we have a need that is in his or her portfolio." She nodded back, thinking that didn't sound very practical. After a few silent minutes during which Mas returned from his morning flight and Omar began to stir, Daeghun added, "If they don't accept you, there is a dwarven monk at Crossroad Keep, Khelgar Ironfist, who trained at the Tyrran temple. He is building a monastery there that should be nearly complete. I don't know that he's taking students yet, but perhaps you could ask about training with him."

Lotus beamed at him. "The way of the _Iron Fist_? I had a dream about a fist of iron meeting a fist of stone while I stood at a crossroads! Perhaps I shall, if he will have me. Perhaps this is why the god of travelers allowed me to miss my boat and caused me to join with a merchant caravan instead, where I met Omar, which has led me to this place. If so, I will give him a special offering."

Omar sat up, yawned and stretched, then ran his long, tapered fingers through his wiry black hair. "Did someone call me? Good morning, _effendis_!" He rolled up his bedroll then began deftly wrapping the cloth that made up his turban around his head. When he finished, he tapped Daeghun's shoulder to get his attention as he shifted from foot to foot. "Will we be landing any time soon, sir?"

Daeghun nodded at him. "Yes, we can as soon as we pass over that hill, and land in that clearing. We will be close enough to walk the rest of the way." He had been unable to persuade the boy to give him Dee's letter or go to the Keep, which was closer, to give it to her husband. But he had to admire the boy's determination to see his parent's charge accomplished and deliver it to no one but the High Justicar himself. All that mattered was that there was word from her at long last.

Neverwinter:

A loremaster at the temple of Oghma was the only one of all those they asked who had heard of the _Betrayer's Crusade,_ but it took the better part of four days for her to locate the journal containing the account of the rebellion of a high priest of Myrkul and the resulting punishment by his god. Finding it became a challenge for her, they kind of challenge that stole sleep but on which she thrived. She woke up late one night with a start after remembering the name of the journal where she had seen it, and she found it working by candle light. The next morning Casavir read the journal over Sand's shoulder, a grim scowl marring his handsome face. "I fear that if she's become the latest victim of Myrkul's curse, it may already be too late, or it surely shall be by the time we reach her. But at least this gives us a small hope."

While Casavir finished the first, Sand took another tome about accursed places from the Loremaster and read the indicated pages quickly. "Yes, but in all but a few of the accounts, the victim lived for six months to a year before...According to this, all of the accounts of the victims of the spirit eater curse have taken place around the city of Mulsantir, in Rashemen. That would explain why she was wearing a Rashemi robe in your dream."

Casavir stood wearily, stretched, and walked over to a map of the known world. He searched until he found Rashemen and pointed at it. "There. It is so terribly far away, it will take us months to reach it. Is it possible to travel there by magical means?" Sand walked over beside him and put his hand on the much taller paladin's forearm in an awkward gesture of comfort, concerned about how thin and pale the paladin had become.

Casavir had been in prayer and fasting for days, first observing the rite of _Absolute Contrition _ for two days as penance for his part in Bishop's raising, and then following an obscure rite called _Tyr's Merciful Judgment in Restoring That Which is Lost. _His efforts showed in his sunken cheeks and in the dark circles under his bright blue eyes. He had also refrained from shaving and cutting his hair, as many Tyrrans did during their fasts. If he had it his way, he would have spent every moment when they weren't researching the mysterious phrase in prayer for his wife. But the High Justicar had asked him to assist him in the court to give him something else to do when he wasn't chanting or singing the required daily prayers. They needed all the help they could get, given the amount of crimes, both high and low, that had been committed under the cover of the evacuation and were only now coming to light.

Between that and administering his wife's _estate _in her absence, Casavir was kept busy, except when he was finished with his duties and his prayers and alone with his thoughts. He also hadn't come to terms yet with that task. Inwardly he rebelled at the very thought that he might not be considered her husband for much longer, but rather her heir. _Widower_—that was the word he heard whispered by two priestesses he passed in the hall. He turned to them and said sharply, "Not yet, gods willing!"

Dee had accumulated quite a bit of wealth which must be administered, when the hoards of two dragons were counted. He had given nearly all of his own share to the temple, and while she had given generously to several faiths and charities, she still had much left over even after rebuilding the Keep, which was becoming a thriving merchant stop. As Captain, she had been entitled to a percentage of the Keep's earnings from the merchants and the farms.

In addition, Judge Oleff had settled Esmerelle's estate as he had promised Dee, and even after more than twenty years of interest accumulating on her unpaid debts and back taxes, there was still a considerable sum left to her. The very desirable plot of land near the lake in the Blacklake District where her family's mansion had stood, sold for a small fortune.

He presented Casavir with a key one morning as they arranged the evidence in the cases coming before them. He explained it was to a townhouse in the upper _Merchant Quarter_, in an area which had been fashionable thirty or forty years ago, but the adjacent houses had nearly all been taken over by shops and the upper floors divided into apartments. It had been in disrepair, but Oleff told him he had taken it upon himself to hire workers to haul away the broken furniture, repair the roof and the chimneys, re-plaster the walls and repaint, and replace the rusted pipes from the city water supply for her, out of the remainder of her inheritance. And there was plenty left over to furnish it, though he had only had a box bed big enough to accommodate two tall people made for them, telling Casavir he had lived long enough that he knew better than to presume to guess a woman's tastes.

It was move-in ready, and he had every right to stay there while they were in Neverwinter. Yet Casavir had purposefully avoided the street it was on, though he knew it well, as his aunt's home, where he had been raised, had been two streets over. He told anyone who asked that he had been too busy to inspect it yet. But his real reason came to him the previous night as he tossed in his hard, narrow bed in the temple. It was her house, and it wouldn't be right for him to take possession of it without her. Nor could he even think of sleeping in their bed without her. No, he would wait until she had returned and they could see it together. It was one more little thing that he clung to.

He blinked suddenly as he realized that Sand had spoken to him while he was deep in thought and was looking up at him with a concerned expression, waiting for a reply. "Forgive me. What was that?"

Sand smiled at him and patted his arm. "Such as a teleportation spell? The biggest problem with that, my friend, is that unless you're using a permanent portal, the caster must be very familiar with the destination for the spell to be successful. Otherwise, you could arrive one hundred feet off the ground, or inside a wall, or a mountain, and what good would that do her?" But seeing the crestfallen look on his face made Sand want to try anything to help. "I will inquire at the Cloaktower to see whether anyone there has ever been to Mulsantir or somewhere in its vicinity, and could also cast the spell for us to send us somewhere safe. We can also inquire at the Academy. And who knows, perhaps someone even knows the location of a permanent portal we might use."

Sand had many resources at his disposal these days. Being one of the saviors of Neverwinter had its privileges. He was respected. People in the streets bowed or tipped their hats as he passed. He had significantly more clout at the Academy, even more because Qara's father had resigned and left the city (or had been forced out, as rumor had it). Sand had said nothing to anyone about Qara's betrayal, reasoning that the foolish girl had already paid for it with her life. However, Grobnar had included a verse about her part in the ballad he had written to commemorate the battle, and he had sung it at least once at the _Moonstone Mask _and probably elsewhere before the Casavir persuaded him to change it and let the dead rest in peace. Apparently, enough people connected with the Academy heard that verse that word got around anyway, though no one spoke of it except in whispers.

A few tentative gestures had also been made by the new headmaster of the Academy, regarding Sand's interest in resuming his teaching duties as a full professor. In addition, he had been approached by Vale about a position in the Cloaktower. But the offer he found most intriguing was made by Lord Nasher through his intermediary Sir Darmon, who offered him a place among his Nine, though his membership would be a secret known only to the other members (as was the case with at least two others that he knew of). No one could have been more surprised than he that he was giving that offer serious consideration. He had grown accustomed to his quiet life in his shop, as much as he complained about the indignity of it to anyone who listened. But he had to ask himself now if he had accepted his lonely life in exile in the _Docks District_ crafting ale purgatives and prophylactic potions because he had no other choice. And now that he had choices, he intended to make the most of them.

He had gone to check on his shop as he always did when they first arrived in the city, and found that it and those of many of the other nearby merchants who hadn't returned yet had been efficiently burglarized. Neeshka investigated and declared that it was the work of a professional gang, possibly Axle's, with at least one mage assisting to take down his wards. His golem had been destroyed in the process, though it had taken at least two of the burglars with it. But he had already taken his most valuable personal effects with him to the Keep, and while his small workshop in the back of his store had been cleaned out of supplies and components, they hadn't found the secret entrance to his real workshop. He was giving serious consideration to making procuring him a suitable shop in the _Merchant Quarter_ to use as a cover one of his conditions for taking Nasher up on his offer. As long as he could find someone suitable to run it for him, that was, for he was also considering taking on a light teaching schedule as well.

But first things first, he reminded himself. All that would have to wait until they brought their dear girl back. "Come along. Let's see about getting to Rashemen."

Casavir smiled at new-born hope, no matter how frail and trembling a thing it was. "I shall seek Tyr's counsel before we depart. Despite the dream and Bishop's information, this is still conjecture. I would hate to travel all that distance only to find that we're wrong and she's not there."

He had spent many hours in prayer, but with little result other than being certain in his heart that he was still in his lord's favor. Try as he might, however, he found it difficult to rid himself of the notion that she had been taken from him as a punishment. He had begun his ritual fast for her safe return, but had agreed to take bread and water, at the Prior's suggeston. The Prior had taken him aside and cautioned him that he would be no use to his wife, or to Tyr, if he allowed himself to become so weakened that he was unable to act when the time came. The worst part was feeling so helpless. But it occurred to him that perhaps that was a lesson that Tyr was trying to teach him, that he indeed was helpless without him.

Sand leaned his head back to meet Casavir's eyes. "We have arrangements to make before we leave, assuming everything works out in our favor. It would be wise to be well prepared before we travel to a country halfway across the world. I agree it would be better still if we had a way of contacting someone who could confirm that she _was_ there. And besides, you look exhausted, my friend. I think we should get a good night's rest before setting out. I will find the remainder of our party and make the travel arrangements. However, that means only Neeshka and Grobnar will be with us. Pity there's no time to get Khelgar, and Elanee as well. But if we take the time to fetch them, our journey will be delayed by several more days."

Casavir nodded. "Agreed, but we should take a cleric with us. She looked so sickly in my dream. Perhaps one of the Tyrran priests?" He considered the priests he knew. "I will ask around when I return to the temple."

"Better a Tyrran than someone like that wild-eyed Doomguide of Kelemvor who has been preaching in the markets, though apart from his exhortations to choose a god or go to the _Wall of the Faithless_, he seems harmless enough." Sand thought of the priestess at the shrine to Mystra, but immediately rejected her as too old and grumpy.

"Indeed, and he's been ministering to travelers too. There was an spice merchant from Amn who had a stroke, but when one of our priests arrived to help him, the Doomguide had arrived first and helped him until he passed over. He's a bit _intense_, but he is very kind." Casavir seemed certain of that.

They carried the books they had been reading over to one of the Loremaster's assistants to ask him to set them aside for them, in case they needed to verify something before they left. As they approached the desk, Casavir recognized Brother Vin, one of Prior Hlam's assistants, who was talking the the attendant on duty. He whispered to Sand, "Perhaps there's a priest who would be willing to accompany us." The attendant pointed in their direction, and Brother Vin jogged over to them, his face red and gasping for air as if he had been running to get there.

Casavir strode over to intercept him, knowing in his heart that something had changed. "What is it, Brother? Has there been any word?" His heart leaped in his chest.

The portly young priest put his hand on his arm and leaned against him as he caught his breath. "Yes...Casavir. I was sent...to find you. Your father-in-law...is here with two foreigners...who claim to have a letter...from your wife... all the way from...Rashemen."

Sand and Casavir exchanged confident looks as Sand took the books from him. "Go on, dear boy. I'll deal with these and catch up with you there."

A wide grin broke across Casavir's face. "Thank you, Sand." He and Brother Vin turned for the door, the latter finding he was forced to jog to match the paladin's long strides.

A short time later, Casavir read her letter for the third time, fighting back tears. She explained what she knew of her abduction and the curse she now carried on the first page, though she didn't understand why she had been chosen, though she suspected it was connected to the missing _Sword of Gith_. The second part was a personal note to him:

_My love, I don't know if I'll ever see you again_. _I am more worried about_

_ you, as strange as that seems. Pray for me, but please, for me, live _

_ your life. I told you I would meet you at the Gate that leads to the _

_ Gray City, but please don't be in a hurry to join me, alright? You have _

_ such a loving, giving heart, my love. I want you to be happy. I want _

_ you to find another love and have a family if you have the chance. _

_ I want to tell you that the past few months with you have been the happiest of my life. All my love,_

She ended by hastily scrawling her name. He kissed her signature then carefully folded the page and slipped it inside his belt pouch. Conscious of Daeghun standing close by watching him, he handed him the first page of the letter to read then wiped his eyes and turned to the two foreigners. "I understand you brought this letter here? Could you please tell me what you know of what happened to my wife?"

The tall, thin boy that Casavir assumed was a Calishamite from his garb smiled toothily and bowed deeply, the feather in the brooch fastening his turban sweeping the floor. "Of course, sir." He repeated the story he had told Daeghun a few days before, sparing none of the gory details, though the Shou woman standing beside him, mindful of the horrified expressions on the faces of those who were listening, nudged him with her elbow from time to time when his details were especially gory. Not that he seemed to notice until she nudged him hard, wrapped up as he was in his tale.

"And no one would stand with her against the Bear King, except the wizard called Safiya, who has a Thayan face, if you ask me, and the winged priestess of Ilmater. No one would raise a sword to help. Not even the fierce berserkers dared fight against mighty Okku. But because she and her marvelous bear and her wizard slaughtered a dozen Red Wizards and their terrible gnolls who had invaded the _Veil Theater_ and murdered the White Lady, the witches allowed her to seek help at the prison. But she had to choose amongst those who were going to be hanged or thrown from the top of the city wall. Of those, only the most notorious, the hagspawn shaman Gannyev, seducer of maidens in their dreams, accepted parole. I can't understand why the others preferred death by hanging to dying in battle, but there it is. I suppose that's why they were in prison in the first place. So while her companions were few, the gods smiled on them, and the proof is that after the battle the mighty Okku joined with her to help her end her curse."

He finished his tale up to the point where he had left with the caravan. "They visited with my parents again just before I left. I can't tell you where she is now, but she said that they would be staying at the _Veil Theater._ I know the winged priestess told her they should seek answers in the death god's temple in the shadow underside of the city, and your wife said the witches suggested she travel to the Ashenwood, to seek our an ancient tree spirit who faced a spirit eater before. The hagspawn also thought they should consult a coven of hags at a ruin in a city sunken in Lake Mulsantir. I wish I could tell you more, but I cannot."

Casavir frowned grimly as hope threatened to fly away, yet he was grateful to this boy, who had traveled nearly half way across the world for a stranger. "Thank you for bringing her letter, Omar. Let me pay you for your trouble in getting it to us."

The boy shook his head emphatically. "Oh no sir, I was only doing my duty to my parents and your unfortunate lady, and she already paid my way here. I could not take anything more from you. Waukeen has blessed my journey, and Tymora has smiled on me as well, so I have plenty to sell to make my way back."

Sand had arrived in the meantime and was reading the letter, which had been handed to him by Daeghun, after listening to Omar's tale. "If there's any hope of our helping her, we should leave as soon as possible." He passed the letter on to Sir Nevalle, who had come directly to the temple as soon as word reached Castle Never. "I shall go immediately to the Cloaktower..." Sand paused and regarded the two young foreigners and tapped his chin in thought. "It occurs to me that you are very familiar with Mulsantir, young man. Casavir, we have someone who could lead us to her right here! All we require is someone who can cast a spell sufficiently powerful to transport our party there." With a swish of his silken robes, Sand was gone in search of Vale.

Omar didn't even have time to reply to the Elven mage. He stood there with his mouth open then quirked an eyebrow at Lotus, who merely shrugged lightly at him in reply and looked at the floor. She said softly, "If that is our fate...We knew that our paths had crossed for only a short time, my friend. You were planning to leave as soon as you found a caravan heading south, and I was going to remain here and begin training, unless they will not have me. Do not worry about me. I shall find the brother of Master Daeghun at his tavern, as he suggested, while I wait to learn my fate."

He bowed respectfully to her. "I am torn, Lotus. I've never had a friend like you, and I will miss you. But I also see I miss my family very much, now that I have this opportunity to fly to them. Then again, I saw so many interesting merchants' shops and stalls on the way to this temple. I wanted to purchase a few of the famous Neverwintan water clocks take with me to sell. I looked forward to seeing what I could purchase in Waterdeep as well. And yet, with the help of these magi, I could be home by tomorrow, yes? I've never been away from them for so long. I _do_ miss my family, and with the new baby, they will need my help when they move on in the spring." He had made up his mind. "So this is a good thing, and gods willing, we will meet again someday. And if not, may they smile upon you."

She took his hands in hers. "And fare you well too, my friend. But think for a moment. Surely you have time enough to sell what you have acquired on the way here and buy a few of those clocks before you leave, if you go now."

He grinned at her. "Excellent idea, Lotus! Would you come with me?" He looked over at Casavir, and not wanting to interrupt the discussion the he was having with Master Daeghun and a fair-haired knight, told one of the priests instead they would be right back.

Daeghun walked up to Casavir as Mas flew down from the rafters and landed on his shoulder. "We're going with you too." His determined look showed there would be no argument.

Nevalle handed the first page back to Casavir. "I would like to go as well, Cas. You'll need another sword, and you could use someone experienced in diplomacy. Nash will provide me a letter of introduction as an ambassador of Neverwinter that would help us should we need the cooperation of the local authorities. It won't take long, and he needs to be apprised of this situation."

"Thank you, I would be honored to have both of you with us. I'm going to put my armor on while we await Sand. Daeghun, in the meantime, could you find Neeshka and Grobnar and bring them here? They should be at the _Moonstone Mask_." Casavir turned and strode towards the room in the temple where he had been staying, pausing before the image of Tyr to offer a prayer of heartfelt thanks. He would find her, alive or dead, if he had to travel the whole of Rashemen to do it.

In only a few hours' time, the would-be rescuers had convened in the nave of the temple. Casavir had been unable to persuade Brother Vin to accompany them, but one of the priestesses who overheard their discussion, Sister Olivia, interrupted and told him she felt led by their Lord to help. She was the one who had described him as a widower to another priestess, and he knew that it was her way of making amends. He graciously accepted her offer. The only concern now was that the caster have the ability to send the eight of them.

Young Omar had given them a fright, as the priest who knew where they had gone was called away and sheepishly relayed the boy's message to them only when he returned. Omar and Lotus exchanged their farewells standing on either side of a bulging rucksack that held his purchases and his rolled-up carpet. He was still torn. He had never had as good a friend as Lotus, and he was beginning to realize from the sick feeling in the pit of his stomach as they prepared to part, that he thought of her as more than a friend. But he was a pragmatic young man; they were young, and he acknowledged that they did have different plans for their lives. Besides, he reminded himself that his parents had made an tentative arrangement for him to marry the daughter of another merchant family, which might take place in five years when she came of age. So this parting was for the best.

Casavir had gone into a private antechamber to pray as the others prepared or waited to leave. Some scholar from the Academy had figured out the time difference between Neverwinter and Mulsantir (something only Grobnar had considered), and they had decided it was best not to arrive there in the middle of the night. He was elated that they were so close to finding her, yet something was troubling him in his heart. It was odd, like a heavy weight was holding him down. He left and walked out through the cloisters then into the temple herb garden and knelt and quieted his mind, opening himself up to his Lord. He waited until several minutes had passed, but the feeling of a heavy weight like a massive stone on his chest was still there. Something was wrong.

His stomach rumbled. It had been hours since he had taken anything but water, and five days nothing more than of a few crusts of bread. He was light-headed too, but on the other hand, he found his senses were heightened to a razor sharpness by fasting. And then it hit him as he tried to collect his errant thoughts and focused on the image of Tyr in the center of the garden. The ritual he had chosen to perform required a specific series of prayers to be said on each subsequent day, in addition to the fast, and he had the final prayer yet to chant at dawn. "But surely Tyr understands," he murmured to himself. Yet the weight was still pushing him down.

He prostrated himself on the ground before the image of Tyr. Did he understand? Why did he assume that? How arrogant to presume that his god should take second place to his own needs! What was he thinking? Had he merely paid lip service to Tyr? The ritual established a pact with Tyr. Had he merely been parroting meaningless words and making empty promises? Was his fasting an empty gesture to satisfy his own ego that he was doing something? Were his prayers nothing but raucous noise in Tyr's ears? He drew himself up to his knees then pressed his forehead to the ground. "Forgive me, my Lord."

Doubt worked at his resolve like a sculptor chipping away at slab of marble. They would delay their journey by another half a day, but what then, if they arrived too late? The way she looked, so pale and drawn...so close to death. Tears coursed down his cheeks. He could lose her. Moreover, how could he face the others if she died and they could have saved her? How could he live with himself? But how could he live with himself if he turned his back on his god?

He couldn't. It was that simple. He stood and bowed his head and spoke to his Tyr as if he was in the garden with him, for he was as far as Casavir was concerned. "She will understand, and if not, I would hope that she would forgive me. But I have faith in her. If it came down to it, I would want her to choose Meilikki over me, for our faith must come first. If I do not see her until I meet her in the Gray City, then so be it. But you will be first in my heart. Blessed be your name, my Lord." He felt a comforting warmth wash over him and felt the weight on him suddenly lift, and he knew he had made the right decision. He said a final prayer of praise and thanks then strode through the temple as if walking on air to let the others know, and steeled himself to resist their objections, Daeghun's especially.

But he need not have worried about their objections, though the reason why hadn't been made clear to him yet. Everyone he passed as he strode through the temple stopped and stared at him, as did the 'rescue party' when he arrived in the nave. They acted as if he had grown a second head. Someone dropped something. The only other sounds were gasps. The priestess who was to go with them, Sister Olivia, dropped to her knees and began praying. Casavir looked from face to face. "What is it?"

Grobnar was the first to answer. He sputtered, "Why Casavir, you're absolutely radiant!"

Prior Hlam rushed into the nave, alerted by a priest Casavir had passed. He made the sign of the shining shield and exclaimed, "It's true! Tyr has touched you! What happened?"

Casavir flushed with shame as he confessed his hesitation to fulfill his vow. Yet he had to in order to explain why they could not leave until tomorrow, or that they would have to go without him. At the same time, Grobnar's words were sinking in, and he looked at his hands, which were indeed covered with a iridescent glow.

Sister Olivia stood and raised her arms and began chanting loudly the very prayer that Casavir was to say the next morning. Casavir joined her without hesitation, echoing each line as she finished it, and when they were through, they repeated the chant, with every Tyrran present joining them. The other members of the rescue party looked at one another in awe. Sister Olivia took Casavir's hands, and he was conscious of a holy light in her eyes as her voice boomed throughout the chamber. "Let it be known that my servant has found favor in my eyes through his steadfast devotion. I have heard you, my child, you have fulfilled your vow, and that which was lost will find you soon."

It was all Casavir could do to remain standing. He couldn't say anything other than to offer praises to his god. He finished, and the Prior helped him to stagger to a pew. It was Omar who first spoke as he asked Lotus, louder than he had intended, "What does this mean? Are we going?"

A tall, thin, bearded young man with a hawk nose and earnest eyes, who had been waiting near the entrance for an audience with the Prior, walked hesitantly into their midst. He was wearing a simple gray flaxen robe along with an amulet bearing the symbol of Kelemvor. "Pardon me," he said quietly. "I don't wish to interrupt, but I'm afraid I must. You see, I have a message for you, I think. No, I'm sure now." Sand, Casavir, and the Prior recognized him as the Doomguide of Kelemvor.

The Prior approached him and introduced himself. "How can we help you?"

The Doomguide bowed and swallowed nervously before he answered. "I am Donovan of Kelemvor. You see, I felt I was called by Kelemvor to come to Neverwinter in a series of dreams. I am to spread his faith here, you see."

"I don't see. You said you have a message? Is it related to your mission?" The Prior stood with his arms folded, annoyed at this benign intrusion after a visitation by their god, after half expecting, when he requested his audience, that he would ask if he could build a shrine to Kelemvor on the temple's grounds.

He smiled more confidently. "I do, and it is, though I don't understand it. You see, as I was taking a rest in my wagon, I had another dream. The thing is, I don't think I was entirely asleep." He scratched his beard as he thought about it. "I saw this temple clearly, and then I had a feeling I should come here and tell you that you seek something. Then I saw a shining black mask. 'Your answer is there.' I think that's what I heard, and saw. You see, I got the impression that it was tied to obtaining my shrine. Do you see?"

The Prior rubbed his balding head, and he tried to dismiss the Doomguide as gently as he could. "That was certainly an interesting dream, Donovan. I'm not sure what it means either, but thank you for sharing it with us."

Grobnar had been listening quietly for once, though his fingers went through the motions of plucking the strings of his lute. "Mask—could that refer to the god Mask, or...perhaps the _Moonstone Mask_? And what do we seek, other than the Captain?"

Sand tossed back his hair in annoyance, thinking that they could always trust the gnome to say something inane. "Are you suggesting that she's sitting there, drinking a glass of wine, waiting for us to come to her?"

The gnome's reply was uncharacteristically terse. "We have messages from two gods—a mask, and the good sister's words, "that which was lost will find you soon." Do you have a better interpretation? We don't have to go to her. She's coming to us!"

Casavir stood feeling exhausted, yet energized at the same time. "There's only one way to find out." He strode to the door without another word, Daeghun and Mas right behind him. The rest of the rescuers looked at each other then followed, a few of them feeling rather foolish, and only a few of them actually expected to find something at the festhall. Omar and Lotus shrugged at one another as he shouldered his rucksack and they followed.

At the same moment, one of the festhall's entertainers was playing a game of "the bishop and the naughty priestess" with a refined gentleman old enough to be her grandfather, at the very least. Suddenly, she let out a squeal and fell off his lap. He put down the paddle he was about to use to discipline her and looked in the direction she was staring. A circle with the color and sheen of gray marble appeared on the wall, expanding slowly. The "priestess" scrambled to her feet, then motioned him out the door as her demeanor changed. She ran over and pulled a sconce on the wall down, which activated an alarm. The elderly lord threw off his bishop's robe and jumped into his trewes then snatched up the rest of his clothes and ran out. She opened a hidden panel in the wall and grabbed a wand, never taking her eyes off what she recognized as a portal. A loud clanging sounded in the room, and a few minutes later, Ophala and one of her bouncers ran in, the former also armed with a wand, while the latter was armed with a mace.

Casavir was about to open the door to the festhall when it was thrown open, and an elderly man ran out as quickly as he could while fastening his clothes. Nevalle did a double take. "Uncle Ferdie?" The elderly gentleman spared him half a glance as he hurried for the safely of the Watch outpost.

The clanging alarm was much louder with the door open. "Something is happening!" Casavir sprinted in, looking for trouble, then followed the eyes of the patrons and entertainers who hadn't also made their escape. One of the entertainers moved to block them from going upstairs, but she recognized Sir Nevalle of the Nine and the Prior of the temple of Tyr, so she stood aside. Casavir took the stairs two or three at a time, and caught up to another bouncer, running in the direction of the alarm. Daeghun, Mas, and Nevalle were right behind him.

The bouncer ran into a room with Casavir just behind him and the others not far behind them. Ophala was standing near the door with her employees, wands and mace ready. She had cast a protective barrier in front of the portal, which had grown to ten feet in diameter but had stopped expanding and hung there suspended. She had cast another protective spell on herself. Casavir and Nevalle took up defensive positions in front of the spell casters in the middle of the room, though he didn't draw his hammer. The others crowded behind where they could, Sand and the priests chanting protective spells, all except the Doomguide of Kelemvor, who leaned against the wall and watched, scratching his beard. He broke the silence. "If I'm not mistaken, that portal leads to the Fugue Plane, and I don't think I am."

A few grunts and nods were the only acknowledgment of his statement. The minutes dragged on, increasing the tension as they waited for something to happen. Suddenly a bright white light flared around the edges of the portal then spread inward until the entire circle was filled. A heartbeat later, a huge bear's head emerged, followed by the rest of the enormous beast. He was so big that he took up nearly all of the available space between the portal and the barrier. His fur was glowing white, and swirls of reds, blues, and greens covered his legs. He roared, "Lower your weapons. We mean you no harm." They stared, astonished, as the bear was clearly speaking, and not telepathically.

Ophala nodded at the bear and lowered her wand, and the others followed her lead. The bear turned his head and roared at the portal, and a man with long hair with a blue sheen to it, whom Casavir recognized immediately, stepped through. Casavir murmured, "It's the one from my dream!" Hard behind him was a woman in a peacock hued mage's robe, embroidered with eyes, and a bat-like creature that hovered beside her. She held her hands up and out in a universal gesture used by mages to show she held no weapons and that she was casting no spells. And right behind her, another much smaller bear appeared, a tall blond figure stepping through beside him. As soon as they were all through, the portal collapsed on itself.

Casavir took a step forward as Ophala lowered her barrier, staring at the woman he scarcely recognized, and she likewise took a step forward staring at him, trying to reconcile their memories with the reality standing before them, as if neither of them could believe what their eyes told them. They were both greatly changed, yet still the same, and recognition replaced shock. They called each other's names simultaneously, "Dee...Cas" before they ran sobbing into each other's arms.


	59. Home for Midwinter

Chapter 59 Home for Midwinter

Usual disclaimers: Most of the characters in this chapter are owned by Hasbro, Atari, and a whole lot of people, but not me, except for a bear and paladin-lovin' ranger and an occasional NPC. I'm sure that most of you know, but in case you don't, Midwinter Festival is the Forgotten Realms equivalent of Christmas.

Casavir didn't know where to start, whether to touch her face, smother her with kisses, or simply gaze at her, so long gone from his side, so he did all three. "Praise Tyr that you're here," he finally murmured in her ear as he held her so tightly she could scarcely breathe, as if he feared she would be snatched away from him again if he let her go.

Dee was laughing and crying at the same time, and she clung to him too, as closely as she could considering they were both armored. She replied softly between kisses, "Aye, and praise Kel for letting me use one of his portals to get me here all the faster." She took his face in her hands, gazing into his azure eyes so like her own while running her fingers through the healthy growth of black stubble, which was almost a light beard. "You've been fasting! For how long? Oh love, you've grown so thin."

He didn't answer her at first, suppressing his first thought, which that she was so gaunt and wasted that she was nearly cadaverous. He vowed that he was going to dedicate himself for the next few tendays at least to restoring _her_ to health. Instead, he stated his safer second thought. "Oh love, I want to pinch myself to make sure it's not a dream." She laughed and obliged by giving him a light pinch on the cheek. Casavir laughed, put his arms around her and picked her up and would have spun her around, except there was little room to do it without hitting someone in the crowded room. He contented himself with returning her kisses.

Ophala wordlessly got the attention of her employees and slipped out the door with them to lessen the crowding, now that the crisis was over. She headed downstairs to her office to write out a note for Marshall Cormick so he could send an alert on the Harper network, letting them know to call off the search for their missing agent, while she waited for them to clear the room so she could examine the site of the portal.

But no one else made a move to leave. That was to be expected of those closest to Dee. Neeshka was softly crying, and her tail bumped Sand, standing beside her. He put one arm around her shoulders and dabbed at his eyes with his other hand. But even Vale, the Prior, Sister Olivia, and Brother Donovan of Kelemvor gave no indication that they intended to leave. They were reverently watching the scene unfold that to most of them seemed to be a miracle, and they naturally attributed to the intervention of their own god. The two young foreigners also watched quietly off to the side, not wanting to intrude, but also determined to bear witness, knowing this was one of those stories they would tell their grandchildren some day. Only Daeghun took a few hesitant steps forward towards his foster daughter, though he wouldn't have dreamed of intruding on her reunion with her husband.

Casavir pulled away after one more kiss. "As much as I could kiss you all day, my love, there are others here who've also missed you terribly." He indicated her new companions. "And I believe introductions are in order." They reluctantly broke apart, though neither of them would let go of the other's hand.

Dee looked puzzled as it dawned on her that they seemed to have been awaiting her arrival. "Wait a minute, what are you doing here? How did you know I would be here? Did Tyr tell you?"

Casavir thanked Tyr again. "It's the strangest thing; our many prayers must have finally borne fruit. We've had absolutely no clue as to your whereabouts for nearly two months, and then all of a sudden, on the same day that we learn what 'Betrayer's Crusade' means, we received your letter, Tyr sent Sister Olivia over there a vision, and Kelemvor sent a dream to his Doomguide, Brother Donovan. It's as if the gods agreed it was time to send you home."

That was closer to the truth than he knew. There was only one place they could have heard the phrase 'betrayer's crusade' that she knew of, and Dee smiled at the confirmation of what she already knew, though she was worried that he and Karnwyr weren't with the others. But before she could reply, Daeghun strode over to her and pulled her into an uncharacteristically warm embrace. He hadn't held her like this since the time she almost drowned when she was four. Mas cawed a greeting at her then flew up and landed on the canopy of the bed to get away from a too curious Kaji, who flew after him to pester him more. Safiya called her familiar back to her, flushing and scolding him for his bad manners.

Daeghun drew back to look over his daughter, and he frowned as he tried without success to hide his concern at her appearance. "Though it seemed bleak, I never gave up hope that we would find you, my daughter."

Dee kissed his cheek. "I've missed you so, Father! Who's your new companion? He's a handsome one." Daeghun smiled and held his arm out for the raven and introduced him to his daughter.

Gann always had a flair for the dramatic, and he took Casavir's words as his cue and stepped into the middle of the room. Using his stage voice, he called for their attention. "Please, allow me to make the introductions. We've heard so much about you all from our fair leader for the past two months that I feel like I already know you. Where shall I start? The tall, dark, handsome one is obviously our leader's beloved husband Casavir, though I must say the miniature of you she carries doesn't do you justice. And yet, I still do not believe you're more handsome than I." Casavir chuckled good-naturedly and gave Dee another kiss on the cheek after she snorted and rolled her eyes at the hagspawn.

Gann considered the three elves in the room and pointed at Daeghun. "This is Dee's foster father, the ranger Daeghun Farlong, though she never mentioned you traveled with such a magnificent raven." He considered Vale then shook his head. "I don't recognize you, sir. No, but the Moon Elf with the ebon tresses must be the wizard Sand, notorious for his deadly rapier wit and always having a good supply of _Clean_ cantrips memorized." Sand chuckled and bowed to to the shaman.

Gann looked around at the remaining faces, trying to match a name to their descriptions in her stories, and seeking one companion in particular, while trying to be coy about it. "This gnome is obviously the bard Grobnar. This knight here with the fearsome eye of Neverwitner on his tunic can only be their distant cousin, Sir Nevalle of the perfect hair." Sir Nevalle smirked and bowed to the newcomers, secretly pleased that she had enough regard for him to have included him in her anecdotes, though he hoped they had reflected him in a favorable light.

Gann looked around again with a thoughtful frown and continued. "I...don't recognize any of these priests from her tales, nor do I see the dwarven monk or your druidess, so last, but not least, there only remains the lovely Neeshka, master trap and lock-springer." He walked over to her and made a formal bow with a theatrical flourish. "I must say you are the very essence of beauty, my lady. It hasn't been my experience that my dream image of a woman is less beautiful than the reality, but it's true in your case."

Neeshka wiped her eyes and giggled girlishly, her tail swaying gently, as the handsome stranger took her hand and kissed it. "I don't know your name, but I saw you with Dee at the Keep!" She poked Sand with her tail. "See Sand, I really did see her!"

Gann turned to address everyone again. "Now, allow me to introduce my companions. The woman in the blue robe is our comely wizard Safiya, and the creature flying beside her is familiar Kaji. The enormous, garish, ill-tempered, and sharp-clawed bear is the mighty Okku, and last but not least, I am the humble spirit shaman, Gannyev-of-Dreams, but you may call me Gann. Especially you, lovely one." He kissed Neeshka's hand again, provoking another round of giggles.

Daeghun reluctantly stepped aside to give the others a chance to greet his daughter. He crowded in next to Okku, who struck up a conversation with the ranger about the manner of animals and spirits in the area. Sand was next to draw Dee into an embrace, followed by Nevalle, who reminded her that she was required to present herself before Lord Nasher as soon as possible. But taking a good look at her, and seeing the look of panic that flashed across her face for a moment until she composed herself, he felt dismayed that as Lord Nasher's second it fell to him to give her the order. "Tomorrow or the next day will be fine. In fact, I shall try to arrange a private audience for you outside of court."

She smiled warmly at him. "Thanks, Gilles. I appreciate that."

The Prior greeted her with a kiss to the cheek and made her promise she would visit with the High Justicar as soon as she had rested. Grobnar squeezed in and grabbed her hand, being too short to give her a proper hug. "You simply must tell me all about your adventure so I may write a song to commemorate it. We've only heard about it up to the battle with the bear god's army from the young Calishamite, and we simply must know the rest. It will be a companion piece to the ballad I wrote about the battle of the Mere!"

Dee's face clouded with pain for a moment. She murmured, "Yeah. Mayhap later, Grobby." Her hand flailed for Casavir's until she caught it again.

Neeshka squealed as she pushed her way through and threw her arms around Dee. "I can't believe you're here! Talk about last minute, huh? Glad you didn't need to be rescued after all! I was nervous about how they were going to react to me in Mulsantir, but I thought I'd be safe enough if I stuck by Cas and Sir Hair, umm _Nevalle_. But how did you get here? I want to hear everything! Spill it!"

Dee smiled tightly as she hugged her back. "Later, Neesh, and before you ask, yes, I brought you something. But later, alright? 'Tis for Midwinter." She gave her another tight hug but was beginning to feel overwhelmed by emotion. Her head was spinning, and despite being so happy to be home that she wanted to kiss the ground, she had to fight an urge to bolt out the door and out of the city until she found herself alone in the quiet of the forest. She squeezed Casavir's hand, and he leaned over and slipped his arm around her for support, and Cillian snuggled closer on the other side.

Casavir whispered, "Do you need a healer, my love?"

She shook her head. "No, but I need to go somewhere else..."

He looked at her with concern. "I believe I know just the place." He called for attention. "Let us go to Dee's townhouse. The furnishings are sparse, but we'll make do. You're...all invited, of course." He gave them the address and steered her towards the door.

Okku grumbled as he ambled towards the door, "Good idea. I've been afraid I'll step on the nosy small one." He walked out still trying to avoid an inquisitive Grobnar. They followed Sand and Safiya, who were already engaged in an animated conversation like long-time acquaintances.

Dee stopped and looked at Casavir, confused. "Wait! When did I get a townhouse?"

Vale glided over and offered his hand. "Thank you, but I think I shall take my leave, since my services are no longer going to be required to take your rescuers to Mulsantir. Let me offer my congratulations before I go." He caught the eyes of Omar, whose disappointed face showed he was beginning to think that Beshaba had taken notice of him, and wondering if he should make an offering to make her turn her attention elsewhere. He indicated the boy. "However, this young man was going to be our guide. His eyes tell me that he's greatly disappointed not to be going home, as much as I'm sure he's delighted that you're back with us."

Dee spotted the lanky youth standing out of the way in the corner with a Shou girl and motioned him over. Just seeing him seemed to give her energy. "Omar! I can't believe you made it this far already! Cas, this is the son of the merchants in Mulsantir who were so kind to me when so many there treated me like swamp scum."

Casavir nodded. "Yes, he explained when your father brought him to the temple."

As much as she wanted to hear how Omar had gotten there so quickly, she was determined to get him back home after what he had done for her. "Vale, I'll gladly pay for the cost of the teleportation spell if you will send Omar back to his family." She pulled off her glove and fished in her belt pouch.

Vale smiled slyly. "There's no need for you to trouble yourself about the cost, Lady Farlong. Lord Nasher already provided the components I needed, and the spell is ready to be cast. But I would prefer to cast it someplace where I may concentrate. Whenever you are ready, young man, I suggest my own workshop, if you will accompany me there."

Omar grinned in obvious relief and thanked his gods then bowed to him. "I owe you a debt I cannot repay, Master Vale. But let me first take my friend to the tavern of the brother of Master Daeghun so she may get a room." He glanced at Lotus, still as a statue behind him, then turned back to Dee. "I would like to ask a boon of you too, my lady. My friend Lotus I met in the caravan..." He took Lotus's hand and pulled her closer. "She is a monk. She would like to go to your Keep of the Crossroads to meet your dwarven monk and see if he will teach her the Way of the Iron Fist. Do you think you could take her with you and make the proper introduction?"

She smiled at the girl. "Well met, Lotus. Of course we can. But Ironfist is his clan name, not his fightin' style." Dee thought about it for a moment. "Strange thing is, it fits him." Casavir nodded and murmured his agreement.

Brother Donovan stood next to the door adjusting his wrinkled robe and running a hand through his wild brown hair, as if his first thought was that he should make himself more presentable. He barred their way as if he feared he wouldn't have another opportunity and introduced himself, taking Dee's right hand in both of his. "I would like to offer my congratulations too, my lady. I'm rather jealous. I can see a faint gray nimbus of my lord's power surrounding you. That can only mean you've spoken directly with one of his avatars, haven't you!"

She bit her lip before she nodded and replied tersely, "Yeah. Don't be jealous. I don't think you would want to be where I've been. Now about your shrine..."

He stared at her speechless for a moment before he recovered. "How did...erm yes, about the shrine."

She cut him off as politely as she could, for she had no desire to offend him. On the other hand, her energy was flagging again, and she didn't feel like she could do anything but remaining upright. She got to the point. "It doesn't matter. Were you planning to include a hospice to help the dyin' pass over?"

He smiled at her. "Most assuredly, my lady. A small one to start, anyway."

She nodded as Casavir uttered an apology to the priest and moved in again to steer her away and allow her a tactful escape. But she was feeling more energized as she thought about the need for the shrine. "There is a good sized plot of land close to the cemetery, where a street of row houses once stood, until nearly everyone was killed by the Wailing Death. Then the entire neighborhood burned in the great fire during the war with Luskan. It's never been rebuilt because 'tis said to be haunted. If you can release the spirits, 'tis a good site we could get for almost nothing, and then we'll have more to spend on the structure. Mayhap my husband can carve a replica of the Wall of the Faithless to place along the street. You should see the image of Meilikki he made for me." She looked up at her husband, eyes shining with pride.

Casavir was too dumbfounded by her request to answer. He had spent hours with his hammer and chisel shaping raw stone into acceptable images of various gods. But this was something entirely different. It wasn't a question of whether he had the skill; it was the horrific nature of the subject matter. He was about to voice an objection when the warmth from Tyr's visitation flared anew for a heartbeat. He closed his eyes and let it fill him before he replied. "I sense that it is Tyr's will that I help you. If you can describe what you saw, my love, I can create it."

Nevalle was standing close enough to overhear. Indeed, he was actively eavesdropping so he could report on the Doomguide's plans to Lord Nasher, and he had no qualms about voicing an objection. "Surely we don't need to display something that hideous so prominently, Dee. It would be better placed inside the shrine."

She gave him a look of pure steel. "That's true, Giles. You have no idea how hideous a thing it is. And that's why it must be built, right out in the open where everyone can see it." Nevalle swallowed hard as Casavir frowned worriedly and called upon Tyr's grace to soothe her.

The Doomguide paled, no longer as jealous as he had been a few moments ago. "As you wish, my lady, and thank you sir. May I call on you in a day's time, or two, after you've had a chance to recov... erm, rest?"

She extracted her hand from his gently. "Aye, give me a day or two." He backed away and bowed respectfully at the door then sped down the stairs to find the plot of land she had spoken of.

Dee looked around. Most of her companions had already left. "Where's Khel, anyway? Where's Elanee? I know they made it out of the Mere. Otherwise, He would have told me."

Daeghun and Nevalle explained their absence as they walked down the stairs and out into the cool late afternoon air. Daeghun went first, telling her glowing with pride of Elanee's tireless work to restore the damage done by the King of Shadows, and then Nevalle reluctantly told her about Khelgar's temporary promotion as they walked down the street.

"Khel is acting Captain?" She understood well why the Keep needed a captain as a symbol of authority if nothing else, and that Kana had no interest in the position. Yet while she acknowledged that Khelgar had matured greatly since that day she met him at the inn on the edge of the Mere, his would have been far down the list of names of likely candidates to take her place.

Sir Nevalle's ears turned beet red, conscious that it must appear to her that she had been replaced before she was even cold, which when he thought about it, he saw was the case. Casavir draped his arm around her and gave her a hug, worrying that she thought the same thing. But she understood better than anyone that someone had to take charge. "I'm just glad the Keep's in capable hands."

When they arrived at her townhouse, Sand was engaged in a lively debate about their schools of magic with Safiya while he examined Kaji and complimented her handiwork. He told them Grobnar had volunteered to take the Shou girl to the Sunken Flagon because he wanted to inform Duncan of his niece's safe return. "Poor girl, he was pestering her with a barrage of questions about her homeland before they had gone ten feet."

Neeshka and Gann were nowhere to be seen, but Sand said she had wanted get some wine to celebrate, and Gann had tagged along. Cillian nuzzled Dee then announced he was going to the river with Okku to show him his favorite place to fish, and the two ambled off, startling more than one passer-by. None of those outside her circle remained except the Prior, who told them he wanted to bless the house for them before he returned to the temple.

Dee's townhouse stood out from the others on the street mainly because of a fresh coat of paint. The closest shop was a candle maker, beyond that she could see a sign for a seamstress's shop, and there was a bakery and a sausage maker across the street. Several of the nearby shopkeepers had stepped out into the street or had opened their windows and watched them indiscreetly, curious about what manner of shop might be going in, and whether it would offer them any competition. But these people didn't look like any merchants they had ever seen, and more than one also noted, as they gathered to speculate, the presence of one of the Nine as well as the Prior of the temple of Tyr.

Casavir inserted the key in the lock then stood aside for her. "The High Justicar told me the lower floor had been rented for many years by a cousin of your mother's, who was a wine merchant, but when the evacuation order was given, he decided to sell his stock and leave permanently." He paused with his hand on the knob. "By rights you should be the one to open the door to your house, my love."

"We're married, remember? It's your house too." She smiled brightly and kissed his cheek then slipped under his arm, turned the key, and opened the door.

"Yes, we are." Casavir swept her up in his arms, causing her to gasp loudly in surprise then giggle like Neeshka as she threw her arms around his neck. "Then allow me to carry my bride over the threshold." He offered a prayer of thanks to Tyr as they walked in that he was able to do so.

Sand and Safiya each spoke a word of magic, which caused the top of their staffs to emit a warm glow. The Prior led the way, blessing each room in turn in the name of Tyr. The main shop area had at one time been the parlor when the wealthy lived here rather than in Blacklake. The rest of the ground floor had been converted to a warehouse (which had been a ballroom at one time!), workshop, and a small tavern, while the shop's owner and his family had lived on the floor above.

Dee ran her hand along the intricately carved oak trim on the walls, a remnant of the house's former glory, "I suppose eventually I'll need to find a good tenant," she murmured. But as soon as the words were out of her mouth, she had a sudden inspiration, as did both Sand and Casavir, and they turned and grinned at each other. There was no need to say what was on her mind, for Sand spoke first.

"You need look no further, dear girl. It's perfect! It's much larger than my old shop, and there's likely room enough in the cellar to create a secured work area. I could even extend it out under the garden. It's but a short walk to the Academy from here. Now the only problem remaining, apart from the excavation, is moving everything over and hiring suitable help to run it, for I shall be far too busy." He extended his hand to Dee, and she took it and shook it, sealing the deal, and resisted the urge to spit on her hand first, as they would have done in West Harbor.

"A magic shop? How interesting." Safiya said flatly, though she wasn't sure whether she should be delighted at the financial freedom it would give him, or appalled that he was willing to settle for being a shopkeeper, peddling who knew what potions and wares to the public.

Casavir was looking out for his wife's interests. "Don't forget to agree upon the rent." It didn't take him long to think of a suggestion for an employee either. "And how about the sorceress at the festhall you're teaching? I gotten the impression that she only works the trade to be with her sister."

Sand smiled as he thought about her. "What a splendid idea, Casavir. I don't imagine it will be easy to persuade Mignon to leave her twin, however. But I shall try. Perhaps her sister might find employment in one of the festhalls here, or even open her own." He examined the space thoroughly; there was a room off the shop that would be more than adequate for whomever he hired, and he was already making plans to place his private quarters in part of the space of the former tavern.

There were several rooms on the second floor. The largest was the master suite, which had its own bathing chamber and privy, and was big enough that it might have housed a family. The room was empty apart from an elegant old table and chairs carved from cherry wood, two wardrobes also of cherry wood, new oak armor stands for each of them, a weapon rack, and the new box bed. In a small alcove a shrine to Tyr had been installed, and beside that a shrine to Meilikki. The room had a sun porch with two large windows that looked out on the back garden. A smaller window on the other side of the room faced the street, with sturdy shutters that could be closed to seal out the winter storms or the summer sun. Curtains embroidered with colorful flowers and animals matched the hangings on the bed. Dee ran the cloth through her fingers and looked longingly at the bed as Neeshka and Gann returned with the wine, with Duncan and Grobnar in tow.

She sighed softly, which was unheard by everyone except Casavir, and his heart ached for her, but he also knew her friends would come first, as he knew they would for him. And they missed her too, so he would let them have a reunion then tactfully hint that they leave so she could rest. He put his arm around her and gave her a hug. "Why don't we get out of our armor, my love?"

"Let me help you before I return to Castle Never, cousin." Nevalle walked over and began unfastening Casavir's dragon scale armor and helping him place it on one of the stands.

Dee forced a bright smile and let Duncan wrap her up in a bear hug. But she didn't realize how much she had missed him until he was standing before her. "Same old Uncle Duncan, still wearing the same ale-stained apron you wore the last time I saw you, as if no time at all has passed." But this close she couldn't help but note the new scar across his cheek, though it almost blended in with his tawny beard.

He drew back to look at her closely and shook his head, not bothering to hide his concern, then hugged her again, but much more gently, as if he feared he might snap her bones. "I only heard about what happened to you from Sand when we got back to the city, just over a tenday ago, lass. If I'd have known they was goin' after you, I'd have given my brother my folding boat to take in case they had to cross water. Where have ye been? You tell your uncle all about it."

She smiled wanly and gave him another hug then extricated herself. "I'll tell you all about it, Uncle, but later, I really want to get out of my armor. Where have _you_ been? Where did you sail to when you evacuated? How did that boat hold up after all those years, and your green crew, did you manage to teach 'em the ropes?" She bit her lip as she turned around and unfastened her armor, having dodged another attempt to draw her out. Casavir frowned and caught the eyes of Daeghun, who also had a worried frown. But the ranger shrugged subtly, a move that Casavir interpreted to mean this was to be expected, and he felt she would recover, given time.

Duncan swallowed hard while he thought of a reply, glad she had turned away so she couldn't read the lie in his eyes. She wasn't the only one who wasn't ready to talk. "We...sailed around a bit. I'll tell you later, lass. But I need to be getting back to the tavern now before the supper rush. Yer new friends here are welcome to stay there if they like."

She turned back and nodded as an unspoken understanding passed between them. "Thanks, Uncle. I'll see you later." After a final kiss on her cheek, he left for his tavern.

Dee hung her weapon belt on a hook on the rack, close enough to the bed that she could grab something in a heartbeat. As she turned, Neeshka insisted she model the cotton Rashemi shirt she was wearing over wool leggings, which had a high band around the neck in place of a collar, an offset keyhole neck opening, and bands decorated with blackwork embroidery gathering the wide sleeves. Dee made a face at the tiefling but held out her arms and turned around. Neeshka teased, "Ooh, it's cute! Only you would get grabbed and taken half way across the world and then go shopping."

Dee shrugged defensively as she plopped gracelessly beside Casavir while Sand and Safiya tittered, "Well it wasn't like I had anything with me but a couple of changes of small clothes and socks, and you know how torn up our clothes get. Most of my pack was full of potions and healer's kits when we set out. I lost both pairs of spectacles too, and I couldn't find anyone who knew how to make 'em."

"It's true, and she was even missing a boot when I met her," Safiya interjected helpfully.

Casavir frowned at the memory of that day. "I held on to your boot until the Luskan mage carried me from the ruin and only let go because she took it from me. I was too weak to fight back. One of the Greycloaks found it later and brought it to us. I have it in your bag." He spoke a word as he opened one of his belt pouches, which she recognized as her magic bag she had left locked in her desk drawer at Crossroad Keep. He grinned sheepishly. "I uhh unlocked your desk and brought your bag with me, thinking if we found you that you might have something you needed in it."

"That was thinkin' ahead, love." She beamed at him, thinking how blessed she was that she had such a clever husband as she pulled her new bag off her belt, then opened it and whispered 'boot" into the opening. A heartbeat later, the matching boot was in her hand, and she set it on the floor next to its mate. "And I picked up another bag in Rashemen from someone who didn't need it anymore, so you may as well keep that one."

Dee flushed as she closed the bag and thought about the number of gifts she had acquired for them all. "Yeah, I admit I shopped when there was downtime. For one thing, the merchants treated me like a human and not a monster, and it wasn't 'cause they only wanted my money. All I could think of was if I would make it home in time for Midwinter Festival. Hells, buyin' you all presents gave me hope that I'd live long enough to make it home so I could give them to you."

Neeshka looked down at the floor. "I haven't even thought about Midwinter. It seemed wrong to, with us not knowing where you were or if you'd make it back." Casavir and Sand spoke their agreement.

Dee gave the tiefling a fierce hug. "I know. Thanks, my friend."

Daeghun, Safiya and Sand claimed chairs, but Neeshka and Gann were content to sit on the floor, while Casavir and Dee sat on the edge of their bed. Grobnar climbed up on the table and played a relaxing tune on his lute. Neeshka had acquired goblets and mugs from the former tavern's kitchen and passed the wine around, and they toasted to Dee's safe return. Dee sipped at the wine and deflected questions by asking Neeshka and Sand about their escape from the ruin. "Funny, Jerro was right about that at least. He saw you holding your lucky coin as you ran past, and he guessed the spell that Sand cast. He was wrong about everyone else though."

"Then Jerro did find you?" Casavir inquired.

"More like we found him. Zhaeve found us on the astral plane. I'll tell you about it later tho'. How did you get away from the Luskans?" She relaxed visibly as she listened, and Casavir settled next to her and began rubbing her back as he talked. She sighed peacefully and gave herself over to the familiar comforting sensation of his touch.

About that time a loud shriek of "bear!" from the street below, followed by a deep bearish bellow of "human!" alerted them that Cillian and Okku had returned. Grobnar ran down the stairs to open the door for them. Daeghun looked around at the gathering, which was threatening to go on all night, and frowned then stood and got everyone's attention. "My daughter and her husband are being too polite to ask you to leave so they might have some time alone." He ignored Dee and Casavir's protest that they didn't mind and said firmly, "We will see her tomorrow. Mas and I are off to the _Sunken Flagon_, if anyone would like to go with me." He didn't wait for a response, but followed the raven down the stairs.

Sand stood and pushed his chair back in and did the same for Safiya's chair as she stood. "My lady, there's a lecture at the Academy tonight on the phenomenon of the great number of sorcerers who have been born since the _Time of Troubles_, if you would like to accompany me? On the way, we can stop for supper at the _Moonstone Mask, _and I can take you on a tour of the Academy before the lecture starts. Afterwards, you must stay in my guest room at my old shop rather than that tavern. I insist."

Safiya smiled at Sand, relieved that they were getting along so well. "Thank you, that does sound interesting. I do hope they've allowed adequate time for questions. Come along, Kaji." After they stopped at the door to give Dee a final hug, she followed behind Sand, discussing theories of transmogrification as they passed Cillian coming up the stairs.

Gann watched every move through the veil of hair that covered half his face as Neeshka stood gracefully and stretched and said, "Daeghun's right. Come on, Grob. Let's head to the Flagon." She smiled at the hagspawn, who was thinking he was being sly about watching her, but not fooling her at all. "Gann, would you like to go with us?" She bent her head and toyed with her tail shyly.

Gann bounded gracefully to his feet with surprising speed and kissed her hand. "Anywhere you go, I shall follow. However, I couldn't help but notice that little playhouse we passed on the way back from the wine shop, and I believe the sign board said there is a performance tonight. One thing I gained from joining our fair leader's cause and staying at _The Veil_ was an appreciation of the theater. Would you honor this humble hagspawn by accompanying me?"

Neeshka clasped her hands together and gave a little hop, and her tail swung in excitement. "Ooh, I haven't been to a play in ages! We used to go all the time when we were in the city, but then we were always too busy when we came to town from the Keep, and one of the first things Lord Nasher did was close the theaters when he issued the evacuation order."

Grobnar echoed her enthusiasm. "Ooh, a play! What a wonderful idea, even if it _is_ at _The Swan_. Too bad there's nothing doing at _The Globe_, but I suppose we must take what we can until the city returns to normal. Let's go!" Grobnar trotted towards the door as fast as his short legs would carry him.

Gann tossed back his hair, revealing a momentary frown of annoyance, as Neeshka giggled and took his hand and whispered, "It's alright, Grobby's a good friend. And besides, he's got connections at most of the theaters and festhalls, so he can get us the best seats and backstage if we want. We might even get in for free!"

Gann smiled at her. "That's an offer I cannot refuse, dear Neeshka. Let's go before your friend gets there before us, and we can't take advantage of his connections." They said their farewells and left, Neeshka allowing Gann to take her hand as they walked down the stairs.

Cillian nuzzled Dee and told her he was going to sleep in the big cave downstairs where Okku had settled in so she could be alone with her mate. He gave her a final look before he ambled out the door, confident that with the tall one she was safer than she had been in months.

She followed him to the door and was about to shut it, but she smiled as it occurred to her that there was no need because they _were_ alone in the house. Casavir knelt at the shrine to Tyr murmuring his prayers, and she knelt beside the shrine to Meilikki and did the same. Then as she finished, she offered another prayer of thanks to Kelemvor, murmuring as she finished, "I think I need another shrine."

Casavir offered her his hand to help her stand. They were alone at last. He burned to sweep her up in his arms and carry her to their bed, knowing that she loved such romantic gestures, but he didn't want to rush her. Instead he gave her a soft kiss on the lips and put his arms around her, gazing into her eyes. "Are you hungry, love?"

She leaned against him, laying her head against his chest, and smiled as she breathed in his manly scent. "I've missed your smell the most I think. No, Kelemvor fed me...somethin'...tho' I don't remember what exactly. What about you?"

Casavir arched an eyebrow. "Kelemvor _fed_ you? I have to hear this one." He frowned as he vaguely recalled something he had read years ago when he was a boy, but the memory was fleeting. "What would you like to do, my love? How about a hot bath then?"

It was a pleasant thought. "Mmm, a bath. That's one thing I really missed in Mulsantir, besides you. I think a lot of people there take one once a year whether they have to or not. I haven't had one in days, I think, and I probably smell like it. 'Tis hard to keep track of time plane hopping. What about you, love? You must be hungry." She ran her hand down his chest. He seemed like he was nothing but lean muscle and bone now. Fasting was one thing, but she feared he had taken it to excess.

He replied as if reading her mind. "Perhaps later, love. I need to end my fast slowly with some of this bread Neeshka left, and another glass of diluted wine, and then some simple foods like tea, soup and porridge tomorrow." He led her to the table and poured them both a half a glass, and they sat across from one another and drank it, holding one another's free hand. She still wasn't talking about her ordeal, or rather was making small talk, but he was content to have her there with him for now. He finished the wine and stood, smiling at her. "I believe you said you wanted a bath before the bears begin to complain of your smell. I'll be right back." He winked and walked across to the bathing room, though he couldn't resist turning to look at her more than once, afraid she would vanish again.

She wiggled out of her leggings and folded them and lay them on the floor. She unbuttoned the neck of her shirt and looked down at her chest with a frown, not ready yet to show him Nefris's handiwork. But she scolded herself for being silly. It wasn't as if she could avoid letting him see it for long, but she knew he would immediately demand to know what had happened. She spotted a pile of new linens and a quilt in a basket on the far side of the bed and made it up as she waited for him, then stretched out on her side to close her eyes for a moment, testing the new feather mattress as she listened to the splashing of the water. "Is it big enough for two?" It was a comfortable thickness, and she snuggled in.

"Indeed it is big enough for two, if we sit close," he said as he strode back into the room, pulling his shirt over his head, though feeling somewhat ashamed of becoming instantly aroused by his wife's suggestion. But he was a man, and there was nothing wrong with having a man's reaction. She didn't reply, and his heart leaped in his throat as he called out to her. He looked around the darkened room, cursing himself for not lighting a candle. The only light was Selune's, streaming in through the garden window.

As he looked around anxiously, he made out her still form on the bed. He strode over, dropped beside her, and placed his hand under her nose, but breathed a sigh of relief as he found her in a deep sleep. She frowned and murmured something, so he pulled the quilt over her and kissed her cheek then stretched out beside her. He put his arm around her waist, spooning with her as he used his ability granted from Tyr to fill her with calm.

It felt so good to hold her again, so right, and he felt so peaceful, that he didn't want to move. But it was too early for him to go to bed. He remembered as he lay there what the man from the Academy had said about the time differences between the Sword Coast and Rashemen and mused that she would probably awaken in the middle of the night. Since she was sleeping peacefully, Casavir got up carefully so he wouldn't wake her and made a fire in their fireplace. He smiled as the kindling caught light and murmured, "Our first fire." He tended it until its warmth filled the room.

He lit one candle at the table and finished the bread and water, as well as the wine. Apart from checking on her from time to time, he spent the rest of the evening meditating before his god until the candle burned down and he felt tired enough to sleep. He undressed and got into bed slowly so he wouldn't awaken her, slipping under the quilt and snuggling close. With his arm around her, he felt more at peace than he had in months as he drifted off to sleep.


	60. Can You Go Home Again?

Chapter 60 Can you Go Home Again?

Usual disclaimers: Most of the characters in this chapter are owned by a whole lot of other people and not me, except for an occasional NPC and a bear and paladin-lovin' ranger. This is the final chapter, though I will probably continue with a second volume.

Casavir awoke after Lathander's light streamed through the curtains. He leaned close to his wife; her even breathing told him she was in a deep sleep. He said to himself, "So much for my notion of her being wide awake in the middle of the night." He reluctantly got up, tucking in the quilt around her, and went to stir the fire. After his morning prayers, he made use of the bath he had drawn for her, though the water was cold. He dressed quietly and considered laying out some clothes for her as well, but quickly thought better of it. He hadn't been a husband such a short time that he hadn't learned that lesson.

His stomach rumbled a complaint as he passed the table, but he ignored it and went downstairs to see if Cillian needed to go out. He need not have bothered, as the great bear Okku was remarkably dexterous, considering he didn't have opposable thumbs, and had managed to open the latch himself. He and Cillian had been to the river for a breakfast feast of fish and were ambling back up the street already, accompanied by Daeghun and Mas. Casavir stood aside to let them enter and talked with his father-in-law about how Dee had slept through the evening and the night. "I was worried at first that she hadn't awakened yet, but I figure she probably needs the sleep. I was about to see if there was anything I could find for breakfast nearby."

"I smell the flesh of pigs cooking across the street," Okku suggested. "But the smell of grease is strong, and the little one's stomach may be too weak for that yet."

"We passed a tavern down the street that might be a better choice." Daeghun looked back in that direction as he reached up and stroked Mas's head. "Mas, Okku and I were going to explore the wilderness close to the city this morning looking for telthors, but we will wait with her if you would like."

"Thank you, Daeghun, but I think it will be enough if Cillian stays with her." Cillian replied by giving him a nuzzle, then he lumbered up the stairs, following his nose to find the room where his bonded was sleeping.

Casavir wasn't sure what to make of the enormous bear, who was sniffing the air outside the door and gazing longingly at the cart of a pretzel vendor. According to Dee, Okku was more than a spirit; he was a demigod. He had a powerful aura of justice about him, and he owed the bear a great debt for helping his wife defeat Myrkul's curse. "Okku, I haven't had the opportunity to thank you for sparing my wife."

The great bear chuffed, "Do not thank me, tall one. It was she who fought the Hunger and spared me when she could have easily devoured my very essence, and so justice demanded that I stand by her." Okku decided her liked the little one's mate, who seemed like a good and just man, as far as humans went. "And besides, her heart is with my kind. I knew that when my little brother refused to join my side and also refused to stand aside while she and I battled. I told him, 'If you understood what manner of thing she is becoming, little brother, you would flee from her.' and he told me, 'I know very well what my bonded is, mighty one. It is you who are ignorant about her.' My little brother is cheeky, but then he is still young. But he was right." He offered one massive paw to the paladin. Casavir smiled then shook it.

Daeghun hesitated for a moment. "Would you mind explaining my absence to Dee when she does awaken," he asked, his cheeks coloring slightly, as if he was ashamed of leaving.

Casavir smiled kindly at him, knowing Daeghun hated being in the city, and guessing that Okku felt the same way. "I am sure she understands, Daeghun. If she was awake, I imagine she would want to go with you, as would I." He followed them out and locked the door, crossing the street to the bakery.

The shop was crowded as a queue of locals waited their turn for their daily bread. Casavir selected a dark, hearty loaf and and a raisin-studded scone for each of them, as well as an apple tart that looked remarkably like the one Rhetta Starling had baked in West Harbor. He made small talk with the other customers, one of whom, a Miss Tolliver, had been a casual acquaintance of his aunt's and recognized him, though because she wasn't a Tyrran, she hadn't seen him since he went away to school. She offered him helpful advice as to which nearby shops to patronize, and which to avoid, while he waited for his purchases to be wrapped, then made him promise he would bring his bride to tea soon.

Okku was right about the sausage shop. The smell of cooking pork sausage turned Casavir's stomach the minute he walked through the door, but he did manage to swallow the bile and buy a summer sausage for later, and a basket of fresh eggs. He went to a cheese shop next door, where he selected several he thought she would like and a block of fresh butter. At a spice merchant's shop, in addition to sugar, salt, and spices, the merchant carried a good selection of tea, coffee, and even Maztican chocolate, and he left with several packets. He next bought some apples and pears and an assortment of root vegetables, and the helpful greengrocer gave him a burlap shopping bag to carry it all in. He wanted to check on Thunder in the temple stable, and left with one less apple and carrot.

The High Justicar caught up with him at the gates as he was leaving with an interesting proposition. "There you are, my boy. I wanted to tell you that you've done such a fine job of assisting me that I felt it was time that you start hearing your own cases. I've always thought you paladins had an in anyway since Tyr can tell you if someone is lying."

"Me? A justicar?" In truth, Casavir had pictured himself hearing cases while he observed during court sessions. He had studied law in college before Tyr called him. But he had to consider his wife as well. "I'm honored, my lord, but I'm not sure what my wife's plans are or how soon she might want to return to the Keep, and we had planned a honeymoon in Cormyr."

Oleff patted his shoulder. "True, you have more than your own needs and desires to think about now. Think on it for a few days then, and give my love to your wife."

On the way he considered stopping by a barber shop for a shave and a haircut. His new beard was rather unkempt. But the clock in the temple of Lathander's tower chimed the hour. He realized he had been gone longer than he intended. Perhaps he would go in the morning and have his beard trimmed in a style that would be agreeable to both him and his wife. It was the least he could do, since she had grown her hair out for him, though he knew she preferred to wear it short.

His wife... Suddenly as he thought about her he longed to be at her side, so he hurried back to the house. He stopped by the kitchen, where he rummaged through cupboards and drawers until he found a kettle and a few pots and pewter plates and juggled it all as he rushed up the stairs to their room.

She was still asleep, but he thought after observing her for a moment as she frowned and muttered something that she was beginning to stir. A relieved Cillian got up from the floor next to the bed, nuzzled him again, then ambled over and curled up to sleep near the fireplace. Looking through a few closets and cupboards in the other rooms, Casavir found a cloth which was suitable to put on the table. One of the rooms was packed with old furniture concealed under protective tarps, but he controlled his curiosity and left off exploring until she was there to do it with him. He arranged his purchases on the table, and then chuckled as he thought about how thoroughly domestic he was becoming as he filled the kettle and knelt to hang the it over the fire. She murmured something else, and he thought he heard his name. He pondered either frying or poaching the eggs, but decided to refresh the water in the tub instead.

The sound of water splashing woke her up, and she panicked at the unfamiliar surroundings until she remembered she was home. She muttered as she looked around, "Must've dozed off." But as she yawned deeply and stretched, the light streaming in through the curtains told her that she had been asleep for much longer than a few minutes. "Cas has been busy," she mused as she spotted all the food on the table.

The sound of the water stopped, and a minute later, Casavir strode in quietly and hung his doublet on the back of one of the chairs. He grabbed the steaming kettle from the fire and made two cups of tea. As he turned to get started on the eggs, he realized she was leaning on her elbow, watching him. His smile lit up the room.

She smiled sleepily back. "Mornin' love. Sorry I fell asleep. I was hopin' for a _proper_ reunion before all our friends come back."

She sat up as he flew over to the bed and took her in his arms, smiling contentedly as he drew her close. It felt so unbelievably good just to hold her again, and to have her hold him as she wrapped her arms around his waist. "Good morning, my dearest. I would love a proper reunion as well. Unfortunately, the others should be returning soon. I'm rather surprised they haven't returned already, but thus far I've only seen your father and Okku, and they've gone off again."

She sighed softly as she leaned back in his arms so she could see his face, and ran her hand along his heavy growth of stubble. "Unfortunately, you're right. Mayhap they'll leave us alone for the evening. So where did you get all that food?" She gestured at the table then buried her face in the crook of his neck, taking in his scent.

He grinned at her. "I thought I would go shopping while you slept. Your bath is ready, again, or would you rather eat first?"

Her stomach replied for her, though she looked longingly towards the door to the bath. He laughed and gave her a soft kiss then stood. "Or I could make us breakfast while you bathe, as much as I would love to join you." He attempted a suggestive waggle of his eyebrows, which she found not so much suggestive as adorable.

She took his hand and pulled him back for a final kiss. "Not only do I have the most handsome husband in the city, but also the smartest."

They reluctantly broke apart. She took her bag off her belt and watched him for a moment as he walked to the table. But not for long, as pleasing as the sight of him was. There was a hot bath waiting for her. She opened her bag when she got to the tub and took out a bar of Rashemi olive oil soap she had stored in a tin, and followed by pulling out a sack of dirty clothing. "I didn't realize I had so much laundry to do," she muttered as she wrinkled her nose and rummaged through the rest of what was in her magic bag for something clean to wear.

Unlike Sand, Safiya considered Clean cantrips a waste of magic and only used one when they were absolutely covered with blood and gore, or when they had a sufficient pile of laundry accumulated. But she had grudgingly admitted that there were slaves in Thay to take care of menial chores, so she had never had the need, except for her robes. Dee stripped off what she was wearing and added it to the pile then stepped into the tub, groaning loudly as she slowly lowered herself into the steaming water up to her chin. "Oooh yeah, I really missed this."

Casavir placed the pan on a wire shelf built into the fireplace and melted some butter then broke the eggs into it. He crumbled up a piece of cheese into the eggs and stirred it all around. It only took a few minutes to cook. He balanced two plates on top of the pan and put two buttered scones on top of those, and then managed to grab the two cups by the handles in his other hand. He paused shyly at the door to the bath and called out, "It's ready, my love."

She didn't hear him, as she had stuck her head under the water to rinse her hair. He felt a moment of panic at her silence and burst through the doorway. She sat up as he did and immediately slipped back under the water up to her chin, as he tried not to stare at her and struggled not to drop something. She blushed crimson as she realized she had involuntarily raised her hands to cover the new scar, and grumbled, "I'm bein' silly. You're my husband, and 'tis not like we don't have plenty of nasty scars between us. I don't think I'll be wearin' anything that shows cleavage any time soon though. Not that I have much to show." She sat up and took one of the cups from him.

A set of shelves was built into the wall next to the porcelain tub, and Casavir set everything down so they could both reach it. He leaned forward and kissed her softly then bent lower and kissed the new scar, causing her to shiver. "It's flushed from the heat of the water, so it looks worse than it is. Indeed, we are both covered with scars. It should fade in time. Sand might even have an ointment that would help heal it. Besides, I don't like other men leering at your _bosom_ anyway. Those are mine, thank you." He flushed scarlet and looked down, still feeling shy about sharing such intimate thoughts.

She arched an eyebrow and chuckled. "_Your_ bosom? Is that so?"

He chuckled too and met her eyes then caressed her breast with his index finger. "Yes, I am quite certain I claimed ownership. You know how fond I am of them."

She looked down at the scar with a frown as he rolled up his sleeves and squeezed the water out of her pale hair. "This is Nefris's handiwork. The most charitable thing I can say is she was in a hurry to get the shard and get me to that barrow before I died on 'em. Couldn't have that! 'Tis pity Lienna and Nefris didn't bring Safi into their plot. You saw how well made Kaji is."

He gave her hair a twist. "I feared that had happened when Omar told us your sword had been taken." He sat on the edge of the tub, scooped half of the eggs and one of the scones on a plate, and handed it to her. "I can't tell you how sorry I am that I couldn't follow you, my love. But I was pinned under a slab of stone. If not for the Luskan mage who found me while looking for you and brought me out, the rescue party from the Keep would have been too late."

Her reply was tinged with bitterness. "Those things had been watchin' me from the shadows for months. The Founder had the gall to tell me that she didn't see what I was complainin' about, because they made sure not to snatch me until after we defeated the Shadow King. I s'pose I should be glad those things didn't tear my foot off and only broke it getting me free from that slab. And considerin' what the old biddy did to Ammon when he followed them through the portal, I'm glad you and Khelgar couldn't come after me, and you should be too. Let's eat before it gets cold." She frowned and took a big bite of eggs and chewed vigorously to end any further discussion.

He raised an eyebrow at the less than subtle changing of the subject, but he complied, telling her at her request between mouthfuls about their escape from the Luskans, though she didn't ask about Bishop, so he didn't tell her about his resurrection. He too was feeling grim by the time he finished, so he told her about Daeghun's visit and his own shopping excursion, agreeing with her that they were going to have to see if Sand could come up with some kind of an enchanted bear door for Cillian, or even his own portal. He held off on telling her about the High Justicar's offer for now.

He watched her eat as he wolfed down his own breakfast, the hunger from his long fast beginning to catch up with him. He would get her to talk, when she was ready. "I don't know who was happier to see me, Thunder, or the temple's stable hands. I was thinking that small carriage house across the garden would serve as a suitable stable for the horses when we're in town. You should have seen the look on Vale's face when I asked if we could bring Thunder with us to Mulsantir."

She laughed at the thought of the mage, faced the prospect of adding the weight of a war horse to the Teleport spell. The sound of her laugh was music to his ears, and he relaxed as she replied, "Better that then have Thunder break out of the stables and tear the city apart to find you. That reminds me, Safi has never ridden, so we'll have to find her a gentle horse like Shandra's. Mayhap even Shandra's gelding, if no one else has claimed him. It would be fitting too, because Safi reminds me a lot of her. You probably didn't bring Blossom to town, did you?"

He smirked as she caught him with his mouth full. She chuckled again and set her empty plate aside as he chewed the last of his scone and washed it down with a swallow of tea before he answered her. "No, love. It seems Thunder has been _busy. _Orlen's mare had a little black filly, which was just the first of his progeny. We think he's gotten to five of the Keep's mares at last count, including Blossom. She isn't supposed to foal until the spring, but meanwhile, she's been confined by Harm to strolls around the inner pasture."

Dee stared at him in disbelief. "She's...in the spring?" Her face fell, and a heartbeat later she burst into tears. He froze for a moment and stared at her with his mouth open as he tried to figure out what he said that upset her so. He dropped to his knees beside her and took her in his arms, begging her to tell him what was wrong. She sobbed inconsolably for a few minutes, and he was thankful again that Tyr gave him the ability to calm. Tears fell from his eyes in sympathy, but then more as his comprehension of what had upset her grew, which she confirmed when she could speak.

She lay her head against his chest and told him what had happened. "Mavish and Yulia tried to tell me t'was common, and that we were newly married and had years to try again."

He kissed the top of her head. "And they're right, love. We can...will try again."

A few fresh sobs erupted before she continued. "But don't you see, it was my fault! I discovered I could let the curse feed off my own spirit rather than let it devour some other spirit, so I did. But I swear I didn't know I was... Can you ever forgive me?"

He stroked her hair. "There's nothing you need to be forgiven for, my love. At least that explains your nervous stomach of the last few tendays before the battle of the Mere. But the entire ordeal must have put a tremendous a strain on your body, don't you think? I also believe that if you had known of your condition, you might not have had the will to fight the curse as well as you did."

She sighed and threw her arms around him. "You would make a good judge, you know that?"

They were interrupted by footsteps on the stairs. The tread was far too heavy to be Daeghun, and it seemed as if whoever was approaching their door wanted to alert them. Casavir sighed and stood and dried his eyes on his sleeve. "I will ask whoever it is to come back later."

She stood and stepped out of the tub and looked around for something to dry herself off with. "No, it's alright. But whoever it is can talk to me while I do my laundry. I had a ton of it in my bag."

"If you're sure, my love." He wasn't in the mood for conversation, but if she was game, so was he. With resignation, he slipped one arm around her waist and drew her close for a gentle kiss, and left the room, leaving her to dress. He reached the door just as someone knocked lightly, and he pulled it open, surprising Sir Nevalle, holding several bundles wrapped in paper.

"Casavir!" he blurted out, startled that he was there to meet him at the door, though he had made more than enough noise to alert them to his arrival. "I stopped by the dressmaker and the tailor on the way back from Castle Never because the clothes I ordered for your wedding are ready. I imagine Dee will need to have some adjustments made to her gown." He considered his cousin's slender frame and frowned. "Perhaps both of you will. Oh, and I took the liberty of purchasing something suitable for her to wear to dinner tonight. It's an early Midwinter present." He handed Casavir two of the bundles of clothing and looked around the room. "Has she gone out?"

"Tonight?," Casavir inquired as he lay the bundles on the bed then took the third from him.

Nevalle arched a perfectly shaped eyebrow as he heard splashing sounds coming from the bath that sounded like someone was doing laundry. "Yes, I was able to persuade Nash to hold an informal audience at a dinner in her honor tonight. Your companions are invited, Daeghun, of course, as well as her new companions, the bears included. It will be an intimate affair. Besides you all, there will only be me, Sir Grayson, the High Justicar, the Prior, and the rest of the Nine, and Nash's closest advisors."

Casavir grinned wryly at him. "An intimate dinner of no more than thirty then?"

Nevalle shrugged dismissively. "Considering the throng she would have faced in a formal court, that is intimate. At seven, though you should plan to arrive well before then. Shall we say six?" Nevalle watched his cousin's face, reading something unpleasant there as a splashing sound told him that another garment was being wrung out. "How is she? If you're certain she's not up to it, I will ask if Nash will postpone it for a few more days." He couldn't help but observe his cousin's red-rimmed eyes, and was torn between giving him a comforting hug and finding out what was wrong, and leaving as quickly as possible.

Casavir looked at the door to the bath, which was slightly ajar. He answered truthfully. "She's as well as can be expected."

She huffed a moment later, "I'm fine." She stalked in wearing a billowing peacock blue Rashemi robe, carrying a bundle of wet clothing away from her body so it wouldn't get wet. "Tonight at six. After what we've faced the past couple of months, what's a court dinner with Lord Nasher? Unless he's plannin' on bringin' a dragon or some powerful undead to fight, that is." She pulled two of the chairs over closer to the fire and laid her laundry out across the backs.

Nevalle watched her dumbfounded, and his warrior's instinct was instantly alerted. She seemed anything but 'fine' to him, and it wasn't just her sickly appearance. He had seen that look in the eyes of soldiers who had seen one too many battles. He found his voice and put his hand on her shoulder as she pulled up two more chairs. "Dee, you don't have to do this yet. I will ask Nash to postpone it for a few days."

She smoothed the wrinkles out of a cotton shirt then turned and smiled tightly at him. "There is no need, Gilles. Isn't this part of coming home, so I can get on with my life? I want to make sure Okku and the others are there for the inquisition though."

As it turned out, their companions didn't arrive as soon as they had expected. After the play had ended, Neeshka, Gann, and an unwelcome (by Gann anyway) Grobnar had gone back stage to meet the actors and then made a circuit of festhalls and taverns before returning to the _Sunken Flagon_. After a late supper and leading the remaining tavern denizens in a drunken songfest, they finally staggered for their beds, not too long before Duncan's cook was scheduled to arrive to prepare for breakfast.

Likewise, Sand and Safiya stayed at the Academy long after the lecture ended. Few of the instructors and mages in attendance had actually met a Red Wizard, so everyone was full of questions for her as they gave her a tour. More than a few remarked on her exotic beauty, and the opinion was she didn't seem nearly as evil as the reputation of the Red Wizards would have led them to believe. She answered questions about the magic contained in her tattoos for at least half an hour. But other than informing them of the fields of magic studied by other instructors she knew, Safiya had little she could relate about life in Thay outside the sandstone walls of _The Academy of Shapers and Binders_. She sheepishly admitted she was far too involved in her research to care about Thayan politics. It was something many of the mages understood well, and they nodded in agreement.

By the time she, Kaji, and Sand returned to his shop, it was very late. But Safiya didn't fall asleep right away in Sand's guest bed, despite her tiredness. Instead, she weighed a tentative offer to teach, at least for the next term, versus returning in the spring to Thaymount.

She made up her mind as she drifted off to sleep that she wanted, no, needed, to see more of the world. It would be good for her to gain a fresh perspective before returning home. She had never been outside of Thay before her mother sent her to Mulsantir. In fact, she could have counted on both hands the times she set foot outside the _Academy of Shapers and Binders_.

But this night she had been exposed to how much she could still learn, and how much she could share. She knew she would never have this opportunity if she returned to Thay. So perhaps she would stay for a semester, or perhaps a year, or even two. The Founder was there for now, and Safiya had no desire to be headmistress anyway. And she and Sand had formed an immediate friendship too, despite her initial misgivings about him. It wasn't that she was attracted to him, not that she didn't think him handsome. But she already knew that no one would ever take Akachi's place in her heart, and that she would likely die a spinster.

The only thing that was on her mind as she surrendered to sleep was the question of whether to wear some of the other robes when she taught that she had acquired to disguise herself in Mulsantir, or to wear her red robes. "Red...the first day or two, anyway. Better for intimidating the know-it-alls among my future students..." she mumbled to Kaji as sleep claimed her.

Nevalle had seen to it that a summons to the formal dinner was sent to the Flagon and to Sand's shop through one of the Castle's guards. There was another private written message sent along for Sand sealed with Nevalle's seal, which Sand burned in a brazier in his workshop after he read it. Sand walked across the street and left a message with Duncan for Neeshka when she woke up that they would meet them at Dee and Casavir's house. He had observed the three of them staggering into a festhall when he and Safiya crossed the Dolphin Bridge, so he knew none of them would be out of bed any time soon.

He and Safiya spent the rest of the morning and part of the afternoon in his apartment loading what wasn't breakable into their magic bags, and what was breakable into crates. Kaji was underfoot far less than Sand had feared, and actually proved helpful. Sand told her he thought he would keep his private workshop here for now until he could create another at the new shop. He explained to Safiya, "I am on a yearly lease, and it's not up for renewal until the first of Greengrass. I shall give notice soon anyway, but as I pay the rent a year at a time, I have several months' time to complete the remodeling."

They made use of spells to reduce and lighten the weight of the larger items, such as his green alabaster bath tub, and then hurried to the new shop so they could unload everything in the former tavern before the spells expired.

As he and Safiya climbed up onto a wagon he had hired, he looked regretfully across the street at Duncan's tavern. He was going to miss their regular verbal sparring matches. He hadn't thought about it much, but until he joined the Captain's company, Duncan had been the closest thing he had to a friend in Neverwinter. He told himself he would drop by from time to time, but he knew in his heart that it was likely he would be far too busy to walk across the city. Still, he resolved that he would try, knowing he would need to get away from the stress of his new life, and suspecting Duncan felt the same way.

Dee and Casavir washed up from breakfast then opening the packages Nevalle had left, slowly becoming familiar with one another again. "I'm surprised Gilles didn't stay to watch us open these," she said as she untied her Midwinter gift, which contained a dark hunter green leather bodice and matching green silk leggings, and a white silk shirt, with a new knight's cloak to wear over it.

"I know how my cousin thinks. There was no need, as he was assured his selections are perfect because his taste is perfect." Casavir winked at her.

Dee chuckled lightly. "Yeah, that does sound like him." She set those aside then opened the larger package. It contained a maroon velvet gown trimmed with silver, cut in the latest Waterdhavian style, tight fitting through the sleeves and chest, then flowing out below into a billowing circle skirt. The sleeves were open under her arms and tied with matching ribbons, which meant they would allow her to use her swords if need be. Nevalle had even ordered a matching baldric to hang her swords on. She was dismayed that the gown had a plunging neckline, but luckily the neckline of the chartreuse under-gown came up high enough that it covered the scar.

Casavir grinned wryly. "I also told Gilles when he ordered it I didn't want your bosom exposed. I don't care what the fashion is in Waterdeep or Cormyr. He listened, for once."

She held it up and shook her head. "This shade of green, or is it yellow, is going to be hideous on me."

Casavir kissed her cheek. "It is rather garish, but you would be beautiful in sack cloth, my love." His doublet matched hers in color, but he discovered to his dismay when he picked it up that instead of trewes, Nevalle had ordered hose, though he was thankful they were pigeon gray rather than matching chartreuse.

Dee stopped his complaint with a kiss and held them up to him. "I can't wait to see you in these! You have such wondrous well-formed legs; 'tis a shame not to show them off."

He held up the doublet. "Thankfully this is long enough to cover the _codpiece_."

She chuckled lightly again and kissed him on his left cheek then gave his lower left cheek a fond squeeze. "These will be covered too, though 'tis also a shame to hide such well formed mounds from view."

He gasped at her touch. "Is that so? You wouldn't mind if all the local housewives leer at my backside or my legs as I walk down the street? Not at all?" He pulled her into a impulsive embrace, their earlier sorrow pushed aside, for now. The would get past this, in time, though he knew the wound of their loss was still raw and would ache at unexpected times.

She surrendered to his strong embrace, laying her head against his chest and closing her eyes. "How could they resist ogling 'em, though I will object if your admirers decide to bounce a silver piece off 'em."

He laughed then gave her a soft kiss, which she returned. They gazed into each other's eyes. That kiss led to a longer kiss and then another, with more passion. He drew back to look at her, needing her at that moment like he had never needed her before, but not wanting to rush her if she wasn't ready.

She smiled sweetly at him and nodded, no longer caring if they were late. There didn't seem to be any better way to come home. She whispered, "Lock the door." A moment later, Cillian stirred then stood and stretched. He ambled over to the door and looked at Casavir expectantly. "Cill's going to wait on the landing so no one makes it up the stairs."

Casavir did so, then covered the ground between them in a heartbeat. He picked her up and carried her over to the bed and shoved the new clothes roughly aside. "Hopefully no one scheduled another delivery."

She pulled his shirt over his head then set to work on the lacing on his trewes as he fumbled with the tiny buttons on her robe. "They can wait."

But their friends didn't disturb them, though Neeshka voiced her opinion loudly about why Cillian was sleeping at the top of the stairs. When Neeshka, Gann, and Grobnar first arrived, they were commandeered by Sand, who put them to work helping with the unpacking, while Grobnar was tasked with dealing with the questions of a growing throng of curious neighbors. But even the ever-talkative gnome tired of that, so he remembered he had wanted to run off to the temple of Gond to order a new pair of spectacles or two for Dee, to save her the trouble of doing it.

Most of the throng had dispersed by then anyway, except for a father and daughter carpenter team, who were persistent, but agreed to come back the next day and give a bid when Sand had time to think about the layout of his new shop and home. Sand had already decided to add a guest chamber that Safiya could use while she was here. Neeshka couldn't wait to take another tour to explore the attic for a room with easy access to the roof to claim for herself.

Okku and Daeghun returned, and Okku reported to Gann that they had managed to locate a few telthor rats and a pigeon. He and the spirit shaman agreed that they would explore the blighted land outside of the Keep for more in the spring.

"So you're staying?," Neeshka asked, immediately looking away shyly.

"At least until the next autumn rains," Okku replied, though her question was directed to Gann.

Gann smirked at her. It didn't take much to convince him to stay, with the promise of a budding friendship with the tiefling, and perhaps more, in addition to the promise of a fresh start. He had already learned that hagspawn were exceedingly rare in this part of the world, and so he didn't have that stigma attached to him. In fact, one of the actors that they had drinks with after the play had asked if he was some kind of elf or air genasi. He liked the lack of notoriety and the new aura of mystery. "At least that long, and perhaps longer, fair one. We will see where this dream takes me."

Above all the activity, after all their activity, Casavir and Dee lay drowsily in one another's arms in the warmth of the afternoon sun, talking and kissing and caressing one another lightly, until they got hungry again and left the bed to split the tart, which they agreed was almost exactly like Rhetta's. Dee walked over and peeked across the street through the curtains. "Rhetta told me her family's bakery was in the Merchant Quarter. Wouldn't it be an weird coincidence if it was right across the street from my mother's house? Not that my mother bought it until after Rhetta eloped. But still.." She determined to find out for herself, for Bevil's sake.

She returned to Casavir's waiting lap, where she fed him the last of the tart. The pain of their loss was put aside for now. They returned to the familiar comfort of one another. Movement in the rooms below signaled the arrival of their friends, but they were in no hurry to end the moment, until the clock chimed five. They both sighed then laughed together.

She gave him a quick kiss. "I never want to leave this room. What do you think Lord Nasher would do if I decline his invitation? Never mind, let's get this over with." She sprang off his lap as he tried to pull her back.

With another sigh, he stood and joined her. "Indeed. But sometimes I too tire of being responsible."

By the time they hung up their wedding clothes in their wardrobes before Nevalle returned and saw the mess they made of them on the floor, and then dressed for court, it was nearly six. She fastened her sword belt and looked at herself in the mirror as she pinched her cheeks. "Too bad I don't have my paint box with me. I could use some color."

Casavir grinned slyly. "Don't ask me why, since you had hardly worn paint for months, but I grabbed it while I was packing your bag." He fished it out and handed it to her. "I still think you're beautiful without paint."

"Yeah, but you're my husband, and you have to say that." He stuck his tongue out at her as she pulled a chair over to the mirror. He opened the curtains so the light was better and waited patiently, though it wasn't lost on him that she was stalling.

Their companions below had finished moving Sand's belongings inside the former tavern and had helped drawn chalk outlines of where he wanted the room divisions to go. They were celebrating with a bottle of wine, while Sand and Neeshka discussed how much time they should wait until they discretely knocked on the door, ignoring Daeghun's frown.

Safiya returned from the room where the guest bed had been placed. She had just finished a third change of robes, having lost her bold resolve to wear her red robes into this Lord Nasher's court. Instead she wore a shimmering pearl gray robe that was similar to Sand's, though she dropped the hood at the last minute to expose her bald head. That was enough boldness for now, she decided.

Okku looked up from where he lazed in the hallway, bored with the activities of the two-legged. "Here comes my little brother now." Cillian yawned bearishly as he ambled down the stairs and bowed his head respectfully to his big brother, and a moment later, Dee and Casavir followed, arm in arm.

Dee tried to smile brightly. "Are you ready? It wouldn't do to keep his Lordship waiting. His soup might get cold."

Gann detected a flash of nervousness in her eyes and whispered to those closest to him, "She's a much better actress than that one who had the lead in the play last night, though she's wearing about as much paint as armor." Neeshka nodded in agreement, while Safiya frowned at seeing her on the tall paladin's arm, still fighting pangs of jealousy, which she knew was only a residual reaction to Akachi's possession.

Daeghun and Okku led the way through the quarter to Blacklake and Castle Never.

The tables had been arranged in a "U" shape, with a high table for Lord Nasher, Prior Hlam, Judge Oleff, and Nevalle and two other members of the Nine facing them in the center. The chamberlain directed them to their seats in the center of the "U" with a space for Cillian on Dee's left and a space for Okku on Casavir's right, facing Lord Nasher's table. Vale and another mage Dee recognized but didn't know were there, as well as Ophala, and a Dawnbringer of Lathander. Her father sat beside Cillian, with Mas perched on the back of his chair, and her other companions were seated around the table, with her new companions on her left, and her old friends on her right.

Judge Oleff walked up to her as soon as the herald finished announcing them and wrapped her in a warm embrace. "It is so good to see you. You gave this old man quite a scare. Thank Tyr that you've been returned to us." He flushed and bowed formally to Daeghun, who took his hand and greeted him like an old friend, which he was.

An stream of servers who reminded Dee of ants set the covered dishes they carried on side tables, and others farther down the line placed baskets of bread around the table. An enamel tub was brought as close as the man carrying it dared to get to Cillian, and Daeghun interrupted his conversation with the High Justicar to take it from him. A few minutes later, Lord Nasher stood and gestured at the steward, who asked everyone to take their seats to begin the first course, which was a vegetable soup.

Though the food looked and smelled delicious, Dee only ate her soup. She toyed with the rest of her food and slipped most of it to Cillian. She found herself easily distracted as she waited. Casavir had to whisper to her or nudge her when someone close by asked her a question. Finally, after watching her through four courses, Lord Nasher whispered to the High Justicar and Nevalle as his chamberlain called for everyone's attention, "You're right, Gilles. There's no mistaking the thousand-yard stare. How much should anyone be asked to give?"

He stood. His face became a mask of neutrality as he walked over, followed by Nevalle and another of the Nine, and took Dee's hands. "Welcome back, Knight of Neverwinter. Your abduction had had many here greatly concerned, and we thank the gods that you're safely back with us. However, as your liege lord, I regretfully must ask you to give an account of your abduction to be entered in the official records. This will not be public information, but we must know the circumstances who took you and why. We have your companions' accounts of the Battle of the Mere already entered into the records, so you are spared having to repeat that, unless you feel you must."

She stood and bowed stiffly. Casavir was about to stand too, but Nevalle headed him off with a tight shake of his head. The bears were not deterred by diplomacy, however, and they stood on either side of her, with Okku coming nearly to her shoulder. If Lord Nasher was intimidated by her brace of bears, he didn't show it. She said just above a whisper, "Yes, my Lord." He nodded at her and returned to his chair across from her, and signaled her to begin.

She had to force herself to breathe. Both bears nuzzled her, and Casavir had subtlety moved his chair closer. She smiled at Casavir and began. "Forgive me, my lord, but I'm only tellin' it once, so the scribe best be ready." She took another breath and continued. "The first thing I remember is I woke up in a stone chamber in a circle of pillars inscribed with runes, lyin' in a pool of my own blood..."

She continued, though she paused several times for a drink or more often when her memory failed her. A few times she simply drifted off mid-sentence, staring off at something unseen in the distance, until Casavir or the bears called her back. Gann, Safiya, and especially Okku took over and filled in the blanks when her memory failed her or when she struggled to go on, decorum be damned. She continued until she got to her arrival the day before. "And Kelemvor be praised, we were allowed to use a portal in Eternity's End to come home. There's nothin' more to tell." But she knew that even though she had declared her account over, she wasn't finished yet until Lord Nasher gave her leave to sit down.

Lord Nasher sat with his hands steepled under his chin. "Where is the warlock Jerro now?"

"Ammon? I don't know." She shrugged. "I honestly don't care. He's more than earned his freedom. He told me to keep a low profile, and jumped into another portal. He's probably tryin' to stay one step ahead of the fiends he's made pacts with."

Nasher frowned. "I see. Is that the reformed Sword of Gith you carry on your belt?" Lord Nasher stood and walked over to her again, again flanked by Nevalle and another of his Nine.

"It is, my lord." She drew the sword from its scabbard and held it out to him across her arms.

He took it, and Nevalle remarked on the absence of the cracks that marred it before. After examining the blade, Lord Nasher offered it back. "I would imagine the Githyanki might make you a target again, now that the threat of the King of Shadows is no more."

She swallowed. "No doubt, my lord. I was tempted to leave it with Kelemvor, but I doubt He would have taken it." She sheathed the sword, wishing she could be dismissed, and fighting an overpowering urge to run from the castle and through the streets until she was free of the city. Lord Nasher said nothing, but he studied while he stroked his beard her like a sage studying an interesting new animal.

He finally broke his silence and smiled benignly at her, taking her hand and patting it with his other. "I feel that you should have a rest, Lady Farlong. You've certainly earned it. You're newly married, and I understand you are to have a formal wedding ceremony here on Midwinter Eve, with a honeymoon in Cormyr to follow? Perhaps it's time for you and your husband to have some time to yourselves."

"But what about my...the Keep? What about Cas's service to Tyr?" As welcome as his suggestion was, part of her felt like she was being pushed aside after all she had done, as if she was no longer needed, and her poor husband along with her.

Nasher smiled warmly, though she didn't feel the warmth in his eyes. "Captain Khelgar has made no objection to staying. There have been recent events that you and your companions might not be aware of. The Ironfists were helping clear a deep passage below the dungeons that dates from the Illefarn era, and they found an inscription on the wall that indicates that an ancient dwarven settlement was located nearby. Ironfist was one of the names of the clans on the inscription. A good number of the dwarves have elected to stay to explore further, while the rest have returned to the Ironfist stronghold."

"Khelgar had wanted to devote himself to his monastic studies." She wasn't trying to argue. She only wished he would just say it if she was to be replaced like a worn-out sword.

He dismissed her concern with a wave of his hand. "There is no need to worry about that until spring at least, Lady Farlong, as I understand he's being married then. You may return then, if you wish, unless you and your husband decide to take that honeymoon journey. I will find someone to send to assist Captain Khelgar and take over when he leaves. I have Captain Ballard in mind."

Black Ballard. She knew in her heart that it had already been decided, and that if Captain Ballard wasn't already on his way to the Keep, he would soon be. He was a good, capable man and would manage her keep well. It wasn't as if he had an undead army to contend with. She also knew there was no point in arguing. "As you wish, my lord. Might I have leave to get my things and say my farewells? My horse is there..."

He smiled benignly again, now that his knight was settled. "Of course, after your wedding, unless there's something you need sooner. I can arrange to have your belonging packed up and delivered to you along with your horse, if you would prefer. Or you may go visit so you can let me know how Captain Ballard is doing. Now, if you've finished with your cake, perhaps you would like to give your new companions a tour of the castle?"

It sounded to her like another dismissal, as if it didn't matter if she had finished or not. But she had no stomach for desserts and more polite conversation anyway. She replied with a curt bow, "Thank you, I will, my lord."

Her companions gathered around her. Daeghun gave her a fierce hug. "I had planned to return to the Keep tomorrow, daughter. But I will stay." He and Casavir both understood the implication of Lord Nasher's words.

She hugged him back. "No, you should go. I know Elanee has so much work to do, and I'm sure she misses your help terribly."

He gave her a kiss on the cheek and smiled at the subtle hint. "As I miss her, daughter. Very well, you can find me at her grove if you need me."

She nodded then gestured for everyone to come to her, all except Sand, who was engaged in a hushed conversation with Nevalle as he followed him though a side door. She hoped he wasn't arguing with him for her sake, just when things were looking up for him. "Come on, I'll give you the two sovereign tour, and then we can go back to our place."

"Are you alright, my love?" Casavir put his arm around her and frowned worriedly.

She put her arm around him too. "I don't know. I'm torn between going to bed for the winter and getting really drunk. Mayhap both. I'll let you know when I figure it out. Let's go home."


End file.
